The Path That Need Chooses
by Ecri
Summary: Part 8 is up! Story complete! Thanks for Reviews! Traveling through Moria, the Fellowship learns why Legolas was reluctant to enter the mines. Features the Fellowship with special attention to Legolas, Gandalf, Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli
1. Default Chapter

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Author's Note: This is a prequel, I suppose, to my last two LOTR fics Fight the Fall and Keeping to the Road. It takes place just before, during, and after the journey through Moria. I have mixed the bookverse and movieverse. 

Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

Elvish is in _italics_ as well and comes from many sources. They are _The Silmarillion_ by J.R.R. Tolkien, the website councilofelrond.com and _The Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth_ by Ruth S. Noel. I've never really tried to speak elvish, so if there are any inaccuracies here, they are my own mistakes. (Feel free to correct me, but please give me sources so I can learn as much as I can about Elvish.)

  
The elvish names I have made up were either from the sources above or from the Elvish Name Generator.

Legolas' family history is my own invention. Forgive me if the history I invented doesn't quite match your own.

The bit about the dwarves—if this conflicts with canon, consider it AU. I don't remember much about The Hobbit as it's been a long long time since I read it. If I messed up a time line, please forgive me. (And let me know.)

WARNING: If you have not seen the movie, or if you have not read the books, don't read this fic if you don't want to know what happens. Really. I mean it

DISCLAIMER: JRR Tolkien, The Tolkien Family, New Line Cinema, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Phillipa Boyens own this stuff. I don't. I am only borrowing the universe because it's so much fun! I am making no money from this. I am actually making no money at all and am in desperate need of a job, but that's another story.

Please read and review. Please

The Path That Need Chooses (Prequel to Fight the Fall and Keeping to the Road) by Ecri

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"Let the Ringbearer decide." Gandalf's voice carried far enough that they all heard, and not a heart on that mountain was unsympathetic to the Hobbit's plight. Aragorn stared in bewilderment at Gandalf. Why would the wizard leave this to Frodo? The Hobbit was having a hard enough time dealing with the influence of the ring, and the guilt of having brought his three closest friends with him into peril.

All eyes turned then to Frodo, who looked uncommonly small and weary. Frodo tried to decide what Gandalf thought wisest. He searched his old friend's face, thinking perhaps he would give him a clue, a nudge, or a word or two as he had when they'd left Rivendell and the Hobbit had had to ask which direction to go.

There was no help in the wizened features. Frodo swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was clear, and, he hoped, decisive, though his eyes reflected his doubt. "We will go through the mines."

He could tell his words brought relief to some, frustration to othersand perhaps fear to many. He sighed hoping he wouldn't regret the decision, but thinking that, at the very least, they would be out of the snow.

**

Legolas heard the words he had dreaded. He had been pleased when Gandalf had chosen the mountain over the mines. Now, he realized, he had gained only a brief respite. The Fellowship would descend. He tried to shake the icy dread that gripped his heart at the Hobbit's pronouncement. He would face this trial as bravely as the others. He would not show any weakness. He was an elf. He was a Thranduil's son. He could face this fear. He would certainly not allow that stupid dwarf the satisfaction of learning of it. He would be fine. He repeated the words again and again as they turned towards Moria.

The Fellowship retraced their steps heading back down the mountain. The weather seemed to worsen at first and then, the further down they moved, the less snow fell. When finally they reached the bottom, the snow had ceased. All that lay on the ground were a few patches of snow here and there.

They took a brief rest for a meal and a fire, gathering their strength and recovering from the ordeal on the mountain. Legolas, the least affected by the winter weather, did everything he could to help the others, especially the Hobbits, recuperate. 

As he was assisting Frodo remove his sodden cloak, the Hobbit looked up at the elf, worry plain on his face. "Legolas?" He spoke softly, hesitantly.

"Speak Master Hobbit." He answered in light, happy tones, trying to keep his own spirits up as well as Frodo's. "Have you need of something?"

Frodo looked away briefly at the others bustling about their camp, drying clothes and warming themselves, and then looked back at Legolas. He took a step closer and spoke more softly as though afraid he would be overheard. "Was I right?"

"About what, Frodo?" Legolas became more serious

"Did I make the right choice? Is it safe to go to Moria?"

Legolas could not bring himself to smile and brush away the hobbit's concerns. "I know not. I have never been there. Moria is not a realm an elf would readily choose to visit."

Frodo nodded. He should have realized that. "I would ask Gimli, but"

This time, Legolas actually laughed. "But you would then be regaled with tales of dwarvendom to make you wonder how all other races took no notice of the limitless joy and bliss only dwarves are capable of having."

Frodo smiled. "Something like that."

Legolas' smile faded as he considered where they were going. "I cannot say if your choice was right or wrong. I can only remind you that we go as a Fellowship. Whatever we face, we face it togetherbe it hidden monsters or" He shuddered, exaggerating his movement and forcing a look of disgust on his fair face. "Dwarven hospitality."

As Legolas had hoped, Frodo laughed outright, and Legolas allowed himself a small smile. He would not have the Ringbearer worry needlessly. He vowed to bear his own small burden silently.

**

The trail to the doors of Moria was not well marked. The Fellowship followed Gandalf as he picked his way through the forest, sometimes consulting with Gimli. Gimli seemed slightly unsure from time to time, but he recovered quickly and soon the two would choose a direction.

Closer and closer to the doors of Moria they moved until, with each step, Legolas could feel his apprehension building. He jumped when he felt someone approach him from behind, and whirled to face this new threat only to come face to face with his old friend.

"Aragorn."

"_Sidh_, Legolas. You seem distracted." (Peace.)

"And well I might be, for the journey we are taking is all my mind can see."

"You fear entering Mordor?"

"I would enter Mordor with little problem, _mellonin_. It is a nearer destination that gives me pause."

"Moria. Forgive me, Legolas. I did not think."

"There is nothing to forgive, Aragorn. We go where we must. I would not have our path chosen by my anxieties. The Ringbearer has made his choice. I will not allow fear to dictate mine."

"If I saw another way"

"I know you would spare me this if you could. Do not speak of it to Frodo. I will not add to his burden." The elf locked eyes with his human friend with a communication more direct and meaningful than mere words could convey.

"You know I will do as you ask. _Nin mellon_, _Ú-'ost. Henion_, but Legolas, while we travel through Moria, if you have need of my help, you have but to ask." (My Friend, fear not. I understand.)

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"Le hannon, Aragorn. I will be fine." (Thank you. Literally, I thank thee.)

**

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The walls of Moria were steep and black. Merry eyed the cold stone as he munched on an apple he'd dug from his pack. "Well here we are and all ready to enter. But where are the doors? I can't see any sign of them."

Gimli had difficulty hiding his exuberance at being so near the mines. "Dwarf doors are not made to be seen when shut and their own masters cannot find them or open them, if their secret is forgotten."

"Why does that not surprise me." Legolas kept his voice low, but being so near the dwarven kingdom, he truly did not care if Gimli heard him. The inevitability of entering the caves crushed his heart as a stone crushed a flower.

Gandalf inspected the walls closely. Finally, he made a satisfied noise and began to rub at the walls with his fingers. "Ithildin. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight."

The others of the Fellowship gathered nearby waiting expectantly for Gandalf to open the door now that it had been found. After several tries, Gandalf admitted that this might take longer than expected.

As they waited, each of the company tried to find something to occupy his time and relieve his thoughts of anxiety. Pippin and Merry began to throw stones into the water until Aragorn stopped them with a stern word.

Gimli eloquently described the reception they could expect from his cousin Balin once they were inside. As he spoke, Sam asked him questions of the dwarves. 

"Master Samwise, you have not known hospitality until you have been a guest at a dwarven feast!" Sam, Merry, and Pippin gathered nearby to listen to the tales, their stomachs rumbling at the vivid descriptions of the food they would be offered. "Truly," Gimli continued. "They will treat us like Royalty!" Sensing that Legolas was nearby, Gimli couldn't help but bait the uppity elf. "It will be more grand and comfortable than anything the elves could offer, I assure you!"

The Hobbits winced at this, and peered in Legolas' direction hoping the elf had not heard or would choose to disregard the remark.

**

Legolas listened as Boromir and Aragorn shared tales of the White City. For a time, he thought he might almost forget where they stood and what they planned. He studied the two Lords of Gondor as they spoke, noting the similarities and the differences. Both were fair for humans, and both had experience and wanted what was best for their people. Both were brave and strong, but Aragorn held a kingly air that all his time as a Ranger could not diminish. Boromir seemed lost at times, unsure of his place in his people's history, but determined to protect Gondor from outsiders.

As Legolas listened to their latest tale, Boromir paused in his narrative for a breath. In that momentary silence, Gimli's voice rang clear.

"It will be more grand and comfortable than anything the elves could offer, I assure you!"

Legolas felt himself stiffen at the implied slight to elves everywhere and to Imladris in particular. Affronted, he stood to face the dwarf only to be stopped by Aragorn's strong grip. _Havo dad_, Legolas. He meant nothing." (Sit down.)

"_Man pennich_, Aragorn? (What did you say?) He insults your home. He belittles the Last Homely House! Surely you cannot let him speak of Lord Elrond like that! _Lin adar e na! _(He is your father!)"

"_Sidh!_ He wants only to annoy you. Do not let him." (Peace!)

"_Ú-chenion! _How can you allow him to speak so of Lord Elrond's hospitality?_" _(I do not understand.)

Legolas' frustration was almost painful to see. Aragorn knew it had little to do with the words the dwarf had uttered.

Aragorn stared at the elf until the weight of it compelled Legolas to look at him. "You do understand, _nin mellon_, and so do I."

Gimli stood meanwhile glaring at the friends. "If you're going to speak in front of us, use the common speech! You do not see me drifting into my own tongue!"

Legolas laughed, but there was only disbelief, not joy, in the sound. "I scarcely notice when you speak at all, Master Dwarf, whatever the language."

"Legolas! This gets us nowhere!"

Legolas realized how strongly Aragorn wished for him to avoid this confrontation, and, in truth, he knew it was his trepidation at entering the mines of Moria that fed his anger. He took a deep, calming breath, and inclined his head ever so slightly. 

Aragorn read his intent and relaxed his grip on his friend's arm. When Legolas turned to seat himself, however, Gimli was there, grabbing that same arm and spinning him around only to glare at him in fury.

"I will not allow you to insult my people, my language, or my honor!"

"Yet you think nothing of insulting the honor, the hospitality, of all elvenkind! Lord Elrond welcomed you and your companions into Imladris! He made you welcome in The Last Homely House! All you asked for he provided! Now, behind his back, you belittle his efforts? All this you do in front of his kin? Ungracious dwarf!"

"I'll not allow you to speak of me this way! I will have satisfaction!"

Legolas sneered at the dwarf, his fair features momentarily hard and cruel_. "_Satisfaction?_ Lasto al lalaith nín_!"(Elven insult: Listen to my laughter!) 

Though Gimli did not understand the elf's words, the general meaning was clear. He took a step forward, reaching for his axe.

Legolas put a hand to his knife, only to feel another hand already there. Startled, he turned his head to find Aragorn resting a restraining hand on Legolas and his weapon. Legolas' eyes blazed with fury for a moment, but, when Aragorn almost imperceptibly shook his head, Legolas could read the concern—not just for Legolas, but for the entire Fellowship—in his eyes.

Silently, the elf prince released the white hilt of his blade, and, with a nod to his long time friend, he addressed the dwarf with his most regal of tones. "We have each vowed to be here for a purpose, Master Dwarf. We would both do well to remember that."

Turning, he walked away from the dwarf, and eased himself down to sit on a stone some distance away. As he sat, Legolas considered Aragorn's unspoken advice and knew he should take it. Truthfully, he believed his anxiety over entering Moria was making him quick to anger. The dwarf was irritating, to be sure, but in different circumstances, Legolas would likely have ignored him. Now, knowing he would soon enter the dark depths of Moria, he found it hard to draw his attention away from his pounding heart. When he had heard the dwarf's words, though he knew he was being baited, Legolas had clung to the distraction like an elfling climbing his first tree.

He cursed his own weakness, vowing not to become lost in his own fears to the detriment of the Fellowship. The Hobbits, even the men, needed his protection. He would not allow any injury to his comrades no matter the personal cost.

As Gandalf continued his attempts to open the stone doors of Moria, Legolas forced himself to take in his surroundings. He was a warrior and should be alert in case of danger. The rock wall, the stony ground, and the murky water, though hiding no specific threat, did indeed feel ominous and uninviting, but the elf was unsure if that were something inherent in his surroundings or simply his own fears and anxieties made manifest. Certainly, stone and rock offered no comfort to an elf.

His gaze fell on the single growing thing he could find so close to the mines. To the right of the doors, which still captivated the attention of the Fellowship, stood a tree. Legolas did not wonder how he had not noticed it before. Gray, twisted, bent, with not a leaf, flower, or bud anywhere upon it, the tree nearly blended into its stark gray surroundings. He could not tell if it yet lived, but he was drawn to it nevertheless. 

Surefooted, even on the rocky terrain, he crossed to the tree. It did not look well, but it was not, in itself, an evil thing. In close proximity, Legolas could sense its life. That it grew here at all was something of a miracle to the elf. It could get but little sunlight at the base of Caradhras. For the first time in the millennia of his life, he was unsure how a tree would react to his touch. Surely, it had not seen many elves in its untold days.

  
Tentatively, he held out a hand. The moment he made contact, he could feel its song crescendo. The tree did not hide its elation that an elf—and a Wood Elf at that!—had touched it. Legolas smiled, enjoying its song and coaxing it towards health. 

While Gandalf worked, Legolas hovered near the tree giving and getting what comfort he could. All too soon, the wizard opened the doors to Moria.

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As they made their way inside, Legolas tried not to listen to Gimli's tales of dwarven hospitality. The elf was so distracted by the sight of the stone walls reaching up, up far above his head, that it took Boromir's exclamation that Moria was a tomb before the warrior in him took charge.

Kneeling by the nearest body, which was in reality a skeleton, he found an arrow that all too clearly identified their hidden enemy. "Goblins!" He called out to his friends. Instantly standing and nocking an arrow, he scanned their surroundings for any threatening motion.

The hobbits lingered near the door, moving slowly backwards as Boromir exhorted them all to leave and find the Gap of Rohan.

Sam, glad to be so close to escape, felt his heart freeze in fear when Frodo cried out and sunk to the ground. "Strider!" he called over his shoulder as he raced after his friend and began hacking at the long, slimy tentacle that held Frodo by the ankle.

The Fellowship dashed to Frodo's aid. Legolas let fly arrow after arrow with deadly precision, while Boromir and Aragorn sliced and hacked at the creature. Once Aragorn's sword freed the Hobbit from the monster's grip, Boromir shouted to Legolas, knowing the elf would need no encouragement to shoot the beast again and gain them precious moments to escape.

Legolas' arrow was soaring towards its target before the man's voice spawned an echo. The creature, angered at losing its prey, and at being the target of such weapons, reached up with its massive body as if it meant to follow them into Moria. Instead, it shook the doors and pulled at the foundation, until it brought the rock down on the hapless company.

The Prince of Mirkwood was stunned by the darkness. He heard his comrades panting and gasping for breath, and, just when he thought the lack of light would drive him mad, he saw a faint glow from the corner of his eye. He turned toward the glimmer feeling a giddy hope build within him. Somehow, a light poured forth from Mithrandir's staff, and, though the darkness did not recede much, it was enough to flood the elf with relief.

Gandalf heard the frightened breathing of the Fellowship. It did not take the senses of the Istari to know they needed to calm down. He spoke clearly, slowly, his voice imbued with peace and confidence. He considered his words carefully.

"Well, well." Said the Wizard. "The passage is blocked behind us now and there is only one way out—on the other side of the mountain."

The Fellowship listened to his words, both comforted by the sheer act of his assurances that they would be moving forward, yet frightened by his admission that the way across would be long and arduous with little chance at finding more food and water.

The walked as quickly as they dared, which is to say, slowly indeed. The lack of light and treacherous path kept them at an even pace. Frodo eased himself a bit closer to Gandalf taking comfort in his presence. The ring lay heavily upon his chest and he had begun to think the journey was beyond him. Having chosen this route, he now feared he'd led them all to their doom. 

  
Gandalf peered down at his young friend and offered an encouraging smile. "Come, Frodo. We should continue on at least for a short time before we call our evening halt."

Frodo nodded, reassured by the smile. "Gandalf?" He made the name a question as they began to walk. "What did you mean there are older and fouler things than orcs? What things? Itit isn't Sauron, is it?"

Gandalf reached down and put a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "No need to fear that, my friend. Sauron is in Mordor. The things I speak of have been in Middle-earth since before the beginning. With luck, we will pass through Moria without waking them."

Frodo nodded, not sure if he felt better or not. He looked to Sam, Merry, and Pippin who appeared to be deep in discussion about the proper way to brew ale. Frodo could tell, however, by the way their eyes darted to the shadows, and the way they walked—as though something evil followed close behind—that his dearest friends were frightened.

"All that time, all those years" he whispered to himself, shaking his head.

  
"What? What years? Which time?" Gandalf looked down at his friend, concern plain on his face. 

Frodo sighed and answered the question, though he didn't look up at the Istari. "All those times, when I was a child, I would beg Bilbo to tell me stories of his adventuresI never once stopped to think that it was much more fun to look back on than to live through." Now, he did look up, and his eyes held a sorrow Gandalf had hoped never to see there. "I never imagined that while he was doing all those amazing things, he was probably quite frightened."

"There's nothing wrong with fear, Frodo. Without it, people would risk their lives in all sorts of silly ways. As long as you don't let your fear paralyze you, you'll be just fine."

  
Frodo nodded, and offered his long-time friend a small tentative smile of his own.

Legolas had positioned himself behind the wizard taking some comfort in the glow that bobbed above his head. The shadows of this place, he knew, would haunt him even after they left it far behind.

Four days. Legolas didn't know if he should laugh or weep. Four days buried beneath a mountain. Four days cut off from the sun, the sky, the starsthe trees. The mere thought set his heart to aching. He took a deep calming breath, but the stale, damp air did little to ease the ache.

He looked inside himself, knowing he needed to find strength and resolve to go on. He had made a vow to protect Frodo. He would see it through. No matter how many days he would now dwell in darkness, it would be nothing compared to the despair that would crush Middle-earth should the quest fail. He was a prince, and even if he were not, he was an elf. He would do his duty.

To Be Continued


	2. part 2

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Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

DISCLAIMER: JRR Tolkien, The Tolkien Family, New Line Cinema, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Phillipa Boyens own this stuff. I don't. I am only borrowing the universe because it's so much fun! I am making no money from this. 

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Please review.

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The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

Part 2

The Fellowship made slow progress through the twisting caverns of Moria, hindered on occasion by slippery terrain, crumbling walls, and the macabre remains of Moria's former residents. After several hours of walking, Aragorn approached Gandalf.

"We should stop for the night soon. The Hobbits are tiring, and we could all use a rest after the encounter at the gates."

"Yes, we should stop at the next appropriate cavern. There should be a place easily defensible nearby."

"Defensible?" Aragorn's hand lingered over the hilt of his sword. "All here are dead."

"The dwarves are dead, Aragorn. Killed by Goblins who may yet linger. Nor do we know what other creatures may remain. We should be alert tonight."

Aragorn suppressed a humorless laugh. "You have no need to question our watch tonight, Gandalf. Boromir has claimed repeatedly that he will not sleep this night." The Ranger's eyes strayed to Legolas who was peering up at the cavern's ceiling as if, by sheer force of will, he could see through the mountain to the sky he knew hung above. "And our elf seems not himself as well." His voice was a low whisper to keep his words from elven ears."

Gandalf followed his gaze. "I hesitated to lead him here, but I knew he would not leave our company by choice. We must march long and hard tomorrow. I would not have him stay a moment longer than necessity dictates."

Aragorn nodded. "Then we are in agreement." Together, Ranger and Istari scanned the dim light for a likely place to rest.

**

Legolas had drawn the last watch, but he knew he would not rest. He settled himself against the rough stone wall and tried his best to coax his tired body towards elven sleep, but it was no use. 

The lack of a cooking fire had upset the Hobbits, but not as much as the lack of firelight had upset the elf. He moved again to find the dim glow of Gandalf's staff. The Wizard, much to Legolas' consternation, had allowed the light to fade ever so slightly so as not to disturb those of the Fellowship who could sleep.

Legolas wanted desperately for the Wizard to wave his staff above his head and illuminate the whole of Moria. He knew it would not be so, but imagining it seemed somehow to help. In truth he knew not why he clung to the feeble artificial light. It was no substitute for sun, moon, or stars. Yet, in the recesses of his mind, he knew that the mines would be unendurable without that lovely light.

He listened now to Boromir speaking softly to Aragorn though the Ranger should be asleep. It was Boromir's watch, but Aragorn apparently had sought out the man from Gondor. Legolas did not intend to listen to their conversation, but found it hard to ignore.

"We walk in paths of evil, Aragorn. If that cursed beast had but stayed safe in his puddle we would be half way to the Gap of Rohan by now!"

"Lower your voice, Boromir! Some of our company sleeps." Aragorn glanced about to be sure they hadn't disturbed anyone. Gimli snored loudly, oblivious to his friend's anxieties. The hobbits, huddled together more for the comfort of the physical proximity, but also to drive away the chill of the stony depths, breathed evenly in slumber. The Ranger's eyes sought Gandalf next, but he could not discern if the Wizard slept or not.

Legolas, who sat propped against a wall as if loath to lay his head on the stony ground, was undoubtedly awake. Raised among elves, Aragorn could easily distinguish elven slumber, though in appearance it was vastly different from the sleep of mortals. The Prince's eyes were open, as they would be if he slept, but they had not the glazed far away look typical of elven repose. He would have to talk to the elf to determine the state of his mind.

Aragorn turned his immediate attention back to Boromir. "The fact is that 'cursed beast' of which you speak did not stay safe in his puddle. He robbed us of the choice to do otherwise, so we must go forward."

"Aragorn, the Hobbits are not up to this! This is too much to ask of the little ones!"

"I do not hear them complaining."

"They are frightened!"

"Anyone among us who is not should turn back now and seek the healing help of Lord Elrond!"

"Aragorn"

"What would you have me do? Tunnel through the walls with my bare hands?" Aragorn interrupted the would-be Steward of Gondor in frustration. "I know you think only of them, my friend. I have seen how fond you have grown of Merry and Pippin, but there is no other way."

Boromir considered the other man's words. "Aye. You are right. I am fond of them. I would not see this journey be the last they take."

"Nor would I, Boromir."

"It is fatigue and frustration talking. I will not speak of it again."

Aragorn nodded, and laying a comforting hand on Boromir's shoulder, he rose and made his way to Legolas.

For a moment, the elf considered feigning sleep, but he abandoned the thought almost as soon as it entered his head. He spoke first, not giving the Ranger time to consider his words. "What is it, Aragorn?"

"You should rest my friend."

"So should you."  


"Legolas"

"_Im mae, Estel_." (I am well, Estel.)

Aragorn studied his friend's face, knowing the Prince of Mirkwood would not be well until he managed to escape this tomb. As soon as he thought it, he regretted thinking the word Boromir had uttered when they had entered the mines. He was gripped by dread that someone in their company would not make it to the other side of the mountain, and now, pondering the troubles he knew Legolas faced, he could not escape the thought that it would be his dear friend. Still, he could not voice this concern to Legolas.

__

"Losto mae, Legolas." (Sleep well, Legolas.)

__

"Losto mae, Estel." (Sleep well, Estel.)

**

Legolas managed somehow to doze, not deeply, but enough to make his own watch bearable. The Elf watched over his friends as they slept, pleased that Aragorn did seem to drift off as well. He dared not sing aloud, for the close walls and ceiling would make the sound echo, and would likely disturb the sleeping Fellowship. Distraction was imperative, however, so he recalled the words to song after song, hearing the melodies in his head. His eyes scanned the perimeter of their camp looking for any threat. With so much shadow, it was difficult to discern rocks from creatures, but, though his elven heart cried desperately for it, his elven eyes needed little light to see clearly.

The first hours of his watch were uneventful, but his mind did not wander. He dared not let it. The safety of his friends was his primary concern, and he knew if his attention were to stray to his own discomfort, he would jeopardize the very people he had sworn to protect.

As he scanned the shadows to his right, his keen elven ears identified some sound off to the left. He turned in that direction, knowing the sound, too faint to have been noticed by any other being, could be nothing more than a loose pebble. Of course, the pebble would have had to have been knocked or shaken loose somehow. The sound was not repeated. Instead, something slightly louder came from behind him. He whirled around again, but nothing greeted him. The sound was again gone, and though he felt every sense alert and aware, he sensed nothing further. He forced himself to relax slightly, and set to scanning the perimeter once again. Nothing. Habit forced his eyes upward to search the skies for Eärendil before he realized what he was doing. _"Ai, Elbereth!" _He thought, angry with himself for forgetting himself even for a moment. "Elbereth, have mercy. Help me through these darkest depths. I feel cut off from Iluvatar's Song! I feel naught but cold stone. Send strength if it pleases the Valar that I continue this quest."

He spoke in Sindarin having rarely spoken anything else. He did not worry about being overheard as everyone was asleep, and even if they weren't, only Aragorn and Mithrandir would understand his words.

He inhaled, wishing again for the clean fragrance of Middle-earth rather than the damp, mustiness of Moria. A slight movement caught his eye, and he turned, hand moving to his bow. Realizing is was Mithrandir stirring, he moved his hand quickly lest the Maia recognize his unease.

The Istari rose from where he'd slept, and, noting Legolas' position as their sentry, motioned for him to come closer. Gandalf met him halfway, and keeping his voice to a volume only an elf would hear, he asked how the night went.

"We are secure, Mithrandir. There is nothing here."

Gandalf nodded. "Anything living in Moria undoubtedly lives deeper."

Legolas was unable to suppress a shudder at the thought of being further below the surface than they were. 

Gandalf busied himself with their supplies sorting out what they could spare for breakfast before setting out again when the others woke. He waved the Elf back to his duties as their evening guard, but while he worked, he kept an eye on the young Prince of Mirkwood. He had not lied to Aragorn when he'd claimed he hadn't wanted to lead the elf into Moria. His trepidation had been augmented by the fact that there were dangers in Moria that he would not have the Fellowship face if he could avoid it. Still, Legolas was a special case. The Wizard doubted neither the elf's bravery, nor his skills in battle. He had known Legolas all the Prince's life, and knew a more skilled archer in all of Middle-earth would be hard to find. No, it wasn't his prowess as a warrior that left Gandalf more than a little concerned. It was his spirit as a Woodland Elf. Legolas was raised as a Wood Elf in the Halls of King Thranduil. His connection to Middle-earth, to the trees, the stars, the very essence of Arda, was stronger than Gandalf had seen in an elf since the Elder days. 

Cutting him off from the sun, the trees, from Eä itself, was much like cutting out his heart. Four days would seem unbearable to him, Gandalf knew, for he remembered too well something he now saw that Legolas had tried to forget. Hidden memories were rarely hidden long, however, and Gandalf could tell that Legolas' had resurfaced.

Gandalf watched the elf searching for signs of distress, but Legolas was adept at hiding his own suffering from those around him. The Wizard would have to pay close attention and remind Aragorn, as if such reminding were needed, to keep an eye on his friend.

In moments the others began to stir, and Gandalf was forced to abandon his surreptitious glances. As they sat to breakfast, Gimli, perhaps because he was the only dwarf present, felt the need to take on the role of host, historian, and tour guide.

"I trust you all slept well! There's nothing more restful than a night below ground!" He rubbed his hands together gleefully, not noticing the rather unelvish snort that came unbidden from Legolas' direction.

"Aye! And now, after a fine repast, I can tell you all about the mithril mines, or maybe explain how a diamond is coaxed whole and unmarred from the very stone upon which we stand!" His hearty laughter had the hobbits smiling in moments. Pippin asked question after question about mining, and what was done with all that the dwarves unearthed. Gimli was more than overjoyed to take on the role of instructor, and soon, as they continued their journey deeper into the mountain, he regaled them with tales of dwarven lore as well.

As he spoke, Gandalf and Aragorn conferred on their path.

Legolas tried to trail behind or move ahead to the front, but he was unable to distract his mind from Gimli's words. Attempting to see how slowly he could walk and still keep Gandalf's blessed, glowing staff in sight Legolas soon fell well behind the group. To his surprise, Boromir stopped walking and waited for him.

"We should stick together, Legolas. I appreciate you watching for danger approaching from behind, but we don't know what else is down here."

Legolas nodded, then realized the man could probably see less clearly in the dim light than he could. "You are right, Boromir. I would move more quickly if that blasted dwarf would just pause for breath!"

To his surprise, Boromir chuckled. "He is going on and on, isn't he. I suppose it's natural enough. He expected a grand greeting, and instead found nothing but death and devastation."

Legolas knew this had to have affected the dwarf. He felt it in his own heart, the sorrow of seeing so many dead, and they weren't even his people. How much worse must Gimli feel?

When he didn't reply, Boromir spoke again. "Never have I met a creature who could speak so eloquently of rock and stone!" 

Legolas readily agreed. "Truly, he is a marvel." He turned his sharp eyes again to their surroundings searching for hidden dangers.

Boromir, encouraged by their conversation, decided to press his advantage. He studied the elf's profile until Legolas, feeling the weight of his stare, spoke without turning to face him. "Surely I have not sprouted an extra limb! What captures your attention?"

"Forgive me. I meant nothing by it. I have not had many dealings with elves. I wonder if my questions would offend you."

Legolas smiled, turning at last to face the man. "I wonder, too, Man of Gondor, and I am afraid we are both doomed to ponder that thought forever if you do not ask these questions of yours."

Boromir laughed. "You are right! So I will abandon caution and ask. I have heard it said that elves live forever. Is this so?"

Legolas was silent a moment. "We are immortal, meaning we will not age and die as humans do, but there are ways to kill an elf."

Boromir allowed his bewilderment to show. "Kill"

"We can be killed, and we can die. We can fall in battle. Our bodies are quick to heal, but even we are not indestructible. An arrow, a sword, a knife, orc poisona fall from a cliffan elf can die in any way a man can except from mere age or diseaseand of course there is always grief."

"Grief? You mean elves do die of grief! That is a wonder! I thought it a myth!"

Legolas looked at the man who had lived the smallest fraction if his own long life and the sorrow in his eyes momentarily robbed Boromir of breath. "It is no myth." He did not elaborate, but Boromir could see the truth of his words and the further truth that he did not speak; such death was not foreign to him.

"Well" Boromir began, searching his mind for another question so he could distract them both from what they had just shared. "I have heard other myths about elves. Is it true that elves hate men?"

"No cause do I know that has driven any lasting wedge between your people and mine. It is too much to say 'Elves hate Men'. I have known of some elves who do. I have also known elves who have forged strong bonds of friendship, family, and love with men."

"You speak of Aragorn. I sensed a strong bond between you when you spoke at the council."

Unconsciously, Legolas searched for his friend. Aragorn still walked by Gandalf, though now, Frodo walked between them. "Aragorn has long been as a brother to me. He was raised by elves in Rivendell. I have known him many years."

"So the heir of Isildur hid himself in Rivendell all this time." Boromir whispered his thoughts as though to himself. He'd often wondered if there even was a king to return to Gondor. Now it seemed he had his answer.

"He did not hide himself, Man of Gondor." Legolas' voice was hard and angry at the perceived slight to his friend. "He was but an infant when his mother first brought him to Lord Elrond. I don't know much about human families, but Elves do not cast out their kin when they are in need of help."

"Kin?"

"Lord Elrond and Aragorn."

"They are related?"

"Know you nothing of the history of Gondor? Aragorn is Numenorean."

Boromir felt like an idiot. "He's _that_ Lord Elrond?"

  
Legolas' anger fled at the man's confusion. "There is no other."

"I must be thick! Legend comes to life before my eyes and I do not see it."

Legolas smiled. "Mortals have not the sight of elves."

"Are you sure you don't mean foresight, for by my life your Lord Elrond seemed to know more than he let on."

Legolas nodded, a serious expression on his face. "Lord Elrond often leaves others with that impression. Most likely because he knows more than he lets on." 

Boromir stared at the elf, and the expression he wore forced Legolas to laugh. His light, joyful laughter echoed through the cavern drawing the attention of their companions and he was pleased he had given into the feeling of mischievousness. "Oh, Boromir!" Legolas said when his laughter slowed. "You have lightened my heart with your questions and your reactions to my answers! Truly, Man of Gondor, I must thank you. If you have more questions"

"Not at the moment," Boromir responded, an easy smile tugging the corners of his mouth and a bright twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, then you may answer some of mine. Aragorn is the only man I have known well. Is it true that, aside from he who was raised by the Lord of Imladris, that men resent elves?"

Boromir wanted to deny it. He wanted to assure Legolas that any feelings of resentment, distrust, or hatred by men for elves was isolated. When he examined his heart, he knew he couldn't. "It would be dishonest of me to say that there are not some menperhaps even many menwho do feel that way towards your kind. Mostly, from ignorance I imagine, or from jealousy. It seems a bitter draught indeed, that men, no matter how good, no matter how noble, must in the end turn to dust, while elves may live forever."

"I appreciate your honesty, Boromir, but perhaps men do not understand what elves have. Yes, we live foreverbarring death from battle or griefbut perhaps your kind does not understand the constant battle with grief can be most tormenting." When Boromir did not respond, Legolas continued. "Imagine a memory so sharp you can recall every moment of your life. Imagine that each grief you bear is as fresh as the moment it happened all the days of your unending life. Imagine that the passage of time does nothing to ease this suffering. Imagine that the home you love, the very world around you changes again and again while you remain the same, and, no matter how you long for it, you cannot turn back time to capture that time. You can only remember it in perfect clarity." His eyes drifted towards Aragorn. "Now, imagine knowing that your dearest friend, a mortal man who is more a brother to you than any of your own kind, will one day fade and die while you remain exactly as you were the moment you met him many decades ago. Imagine then that each time you see him after a long absence, you find on his face, in his eyes, in his entire physical form every indication that, though you may yet have decades–may even yet have a century or more–that time will pass in the blink of an eye."

Legolas' voice had grown quiet and somber as he spoke, and Boromir could hear the depths of sorrow. It shook him to his very soul. "I am sorry. I had no idea." He shrugged. "I suppose I still don't, though I understand better than I did before."

"As do I. Men envy what they do not understand. I hope that you, at least, do not. I would not want to think that my being an elf could cost me a friend."

Boromir smiled. "I would not deny camaraderie to you, Friend Legolas. I feel already that I can call on you in time of need if our moment at the doors to this accursed place is any indication. What care we how Elves and Men feel towards each other so long as Legolas and Boromir are friends?"

Legolas smiled once again, feeling warmth for this man. There was the potential here for a great friendship he knew. "You are indeed wise, Boromir. 

"Not as wise, I fear, as I am pragmatic."

"One without the other is hardly possible let alone useful!"

Boromir's hearty laugh echoed through the caves.

**

Aragorn approached Gandalf just as they began to descend once again. Frodo had fallen into a discussion with Sam about someone named Rosie, and the Ranger had questions he could only ask of the wizard. "Legolas seems to fare better than we had imagined."

"I too heard the laughter, Aragorn. It is good he is finding some distraction, but my worry does not wane. He is still cut off from sun and sky."

"I don't understand. He is holding up well."

"He is. For now. We are moving at a goodly pace, and he is in the company of someone who has obviously found a way to distract him. We have also only been here for 12 hours. Wait a day or two and see how well he fares."

"What is it you expect, Gandalf? Is there some elven malady Lord Elrond has kept secret from me?"

"Not at all, Aragorn, but there is the matter of hisprevious experience in caves."

"He has said something to you?" Aragorn's concerned gaze fell on his longtime friend.

"No. Nor do I expect him to. He will bear this silently if he has his way." In his mind's eye, Gandalf saw not the prince who walked the paths of Moria, but one who had endured a much more solitary darkness.

Aragorn looked again at Legolas, his expression one of mixed anxiety and a forlorn wistfulness. "You know more than I about that. I did not see him for weeks after. Is there some reason you think he will fail?"

"I said not so." 

"There are many things you do not say."

Gandalf smiled. "I have not the right to tell you of it. It is Legolas' tale. He will tell you when he is able."

Aragorn looked less than convinced of this. 

To be continued


	3. part 3

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The Path That Need Chooses By Ecri (See part 1 for disclaimer.) Please review.

I want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews, especially those who have mentioned that they like the conversation and friendship between Legolas and Boromir. Whenever I've read the book I've always thought there should have been more of Legolas in it, and I wondered what relationships might have developed between the nine members of the Fellowship. When I saw the film, I still wished for more interaction between some of the characters. I'm glad others feel the same way.

I never thought it was true, but the reviews do help me to get the chapters posted quicker. Thanks so much for taking the time. I hope you enjoy this next part!

****

Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

Part 3

"Pip," Merry called softly to his friend. They'd drifted into a companionable silence as they walked each lost in his own thoughts.

"What is it, Merry?"

"Have you noticed that Aragorn and Gandalf keep looking behind us towards Boromir and Legolas?"

"They're probably just trying to make sure we're all together."

Merry shook his head. "No, they're whispering about something." Merry had watched the pair and seen the growing concern in their eyes as they spoke. They seemed worried. Not that they didn't have reason, but their concern for the moment didn't seem to be centered around Frodo. The entire Fellowship had taken a rather protective stance towards the other Hobbit, and Merry, of course, split his concern between Frodo and Pip. 

He glanced sidelong at the youngest Hobbit, using their conversation to mask his concerned look. He knew Pippin was frightened, but, to his credit, he was doing his best to put up a brave front. 

Pippin turned to face him, half-shrugging at Merry's comment. "Maybe they're wondering what those two find so funny."

Merry nodded, and might almost have convinced himself to believe it, had Aragorn not glanced backwards once again with worry in his eyes.

**

The next day, after a much longer journey through the stone halls of Moria, the Fellowship paused bone weary and much in need of rest. Gandalf had found a much smaller area for their campsite than they'd used the previous night and Boromir grunted in satisfaction as he surveyed it. "This is good. Easily defensible."

Aragorn nodded. "We should choose watch for this evening."

Boromir agreed. "Perhaps you and I may split the night between us."

Gimli stepped forward eyeing the two men. "Perhaps you are overlooking the presence of others perfectly capable of protecting this Fellowship." As he spoke, Gimli fingered the haft of his axe.

"It does appear that way." Legolas agreed stepping forward, and, for the moment, ignoring the fact that he had just agreed with a dwarf.

Boromir sighed not wishing a fight. "We have not forgotten your skills." He looked at both elf and dwarf as he spoke. "There is little reason that some of us should not enjoy a night of unbroken rest. The shifts can be split between the two of you tomorrow. Between Gandalf and a Hobbit the next night, and so on. Take rest while you may, my friends."

Gimli grumbled but seemed to accept the apparent logic of the men.

Legolas was about to protest further, when Aragorn took a step towards him. "Rest, _mellonin_. You kept watch last evening, and as I recall a goodly portion of the night before that. Let us do this."

Legolas nodded and after a light meal, fell into a troubled sleep.

**

  
The next morning, Aragorn, who'd taken the later watch, felt his eyes drifting towards Legolas. He could tell the elf had not slept soundly, and he found himself feeling helpless. He wanted nothing more than to help his friend, but if he did not seek assistance Aragorn could not force it upon him.

  
As Legolas finally stirred, later than was his wont, Aragorn noted how he seemed to be less himself. He looked the same, to be sure, but he seemed to move at a slower pace, as if he could not quite shake himself to full awareness.

The Ranger pondered this over breakfast, and continued well into their travels. From time to time he would spare a glance toward Legolas, more often than not finding him talking to Boromir. He wondered at that, but realized, with the Hobbits occupying each other and he and Gandalf and Gimli often in conference with each other about their path, it almost seemed natural for Legolas and Boromir to seek each other's company.

Boromir, for his part, was equally amazed at his inchoate relationship with an elf. He had not misled Legolas when he'd claimed to have had few dealings with elves in the past. Certainly his visit to Rivendell had exposed him to more of the comely creatures than he had ever before seen. 

The elf had taken his curiosity in stride, as indeed he seemed to take everything. Seemed to takeBoromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor was not a stupid man. Nor was he unobservant. He saw the elf's agitation. He recognized his deterioration, though it might have appeared slight in some other being, in an elf it seemed a shocking dimness had crept over him. 

Boromir had also noticed how the elf seemed wary of shadows, and how he leaned towards the light of Gandalf's staff, perhaps without being aware he was doing it. He saw Aragorn's and Gandalf's concerned glances, and had seen the elf's attempts to convince both of his friends that he was fine with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head from time to time.

Knowing he could offer no magic or medicine to cure a malady he did not comprehend in a being he so little understood, Boromir decided the best course of action would be to treat the elf as he sometimes had treated his own brother. When Faramir had been very young, he had been prone to illness. Boromir could do little for his brother than to distract him from his symptoms, thus reducing his misery until the concoctions, herbs, and remedies used by the healers had the time to work. That, he decided, was what he would do now, though the very thought of treating Legolas, who was most likely much older than Boromir, as his younger brother was an interesting paradox.

Boromir had kept this up for their entire journey through the mines, and was beginning to run out of questions for the elf. He had thus far kept Legolas talking about elves and Mirkwood, and Middle-earth. He had learned why Legolas had been so unaffected by the weather on Caradhras. He had learned that Legolas' father was a King, but he had yet to learn why, when he had called Legolas a Prince, the elf had laughed at him.

Whatever else he had learned, he was aware that, though they now walked in what he would term companionable silence, he had to find some topic of conversation if he meant to be a proper distraction. They were into their third day within this dwarven tomb, and truly, the elf looked a bit worse for it.

He was still searching his mind for some question to ask or topic to broach when Legolas found one for him. 

"Boromir, we have spoken much the last two days, but I find I know little of your home. Tell me of the White City. Tell me about yourself, Man of Gondor."

Surprised, but well pleased by this opportunity to boast about his home, Boromir agreed. "I will gladly do as you bid, Legolas, and tell you of it. The White City is a splendor to behold"

Legolas listened as his companion, no, his newest friend, told him long, detailed stories of Minas Tirith. "You describe it so well, I can see it in my mind." Legolas spoke in the softest of voices. "I can almost feel the sunshine as it glitters down upon the tower, reflecting off your silver trumpets." 

Legolas closed his eyes for but a moment, and inhaled and Boromir would almost swear the Elf was inhaling the sweet scents of grass and flowers and seeing the radiant light of The White City.

"It is indeed a beautiful place."

"I hope to see it one day, and to meet your brother. The picture you paint of him tells me what delight you take in him."

"I would love to show it to you, and to introduce you to Faramir. He is well versed in lore and insatiably curious. He would bend your ear with questions about elves that would make my own seem as innocent as a Hobbit is hungry."

Legolas laughed out loud, a musical sound that turned several of their companions' heads. "That is innocent, indeed!"

**

They walked on covering a good distance before stopping for the evening. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Gimli conferred briefly before choosing their resting place, and to Legolas' delight, the Wizard increased the light from his staff until they were all comfortable with the security of their campsite.

They ate lightly though that was a term relative to each race. Legolas and Gandalf ate only a bit of fruit. Boromir and Aragorn ate bread and cold meat. Gimli and the Hobbits partook of a bit of everything, with Pippin eating by far the most of them all. 

Once they'd eaten, Gandalf told a brief tale of days long ago. It was a lighthearted story meant to keep their spirits up, for Gandalf could sense the growing shadow that sought to weave its way through their company. The surroundings were getting to all of them, even Gimli, who, though at home in the depths of the mines, was becoming increasingly unnerved by the inescapable fact that no dwarf still lived in Moria.

Once Gandalf's story was over, conversation started in earnest. The Hobbits were a curious bunch and Pippin, perhaps inspired by their surroundings, found himself asking Gimli questions of dwarvendom. Gimli was easily encouraged to talk on the subject and was soon regaling them with tales of feasts, celebrations, and bravery in battle.

The dwarf was just reaching the end of a rather long, exciting tale of dragons and gold when, glancing at his audience he noticed a far away look in Legolas' eyes. Affronted by the lack of respectful courtesy, the dwarf increased the volume of his voice, intending to bring the elf's attention back to the tale rather then to whatever elven thoughts the haughty creature considered more entertaining. 

He was rewarded a few moments later, when, reaching the climactic moment of his story, Gimli loudly clapped his hands together to approximate the sound of an axe hitting hard stone. The Hobbits, caught up in the tale, jumped just a bit. Legolas was startled enough to jump forward, moving from quiet repose to crouch lightly on his toes arrow nocked and aimed in the direction of the sound.

Silence reigned as the Fellowship stared at Legolas, Gimli's tale momentarily forgotten.

**

Legolas had not realized how tired he was. He had not slept well, and the long trek through Moria was claiming much of his resolve and strength. Soon after nibbling an apple, he fell deeply into an elven sleep, lulled by Mithrandir's words, a comforting translation of an old elvish tale.

In the past, Legolas had tried to sleep slightly away from his companions, sometimes in a tree or at the least in the shadow of one. He knew some mortals found the sight of elven sleep disturbing and he had no wish to disconcert his friendsespecially the Hobbits who likely had no idea that elves slept with eyes open and fixed in what he had once heard described as the very look of mortal death.

In Moria, there were no trees to climb or offer shade, and Legolas was not yet comfortable enough within its stone embrace to try to find the same comfort in some rocky overhang or crevasse.

Even had there been a place to secrete himself, sleep had come upon him so suddenly he would not have had the time. As it was, his head was turned full to the light from Mithrandir's staff, unconsciously searching for the sun and moonlight that so comforted an elf even in sleep. Indeed, Legolas had often thought how likely it was that this was the very reason elves slept with eyes open, so as not to be cut off from the heavenly light.

His sleep was troubled, and his dreams not pleasant. Elven dreams differed from mortal ones, and some small part of him hoped it was not premonition. 

A loud, strong crack shook the elf from his disturbed slumber, and he moved swiftly into a defensive position facing the danger before he was fully aware again of his surroundings. In those moments as he blinked away sleep, dream, and trepidation, the world again took familiar shape. Legolas was startled to find that his companions were safe. No threat, no orc or goblin, no enemy appeared to threaten the Fellowship. In truth, he himself was the only one pointing weapons at the group. Slowly, he lowered his bow, stood from his defensive crouch, and removed arrow from bowstring to hold it limply in his right hand. Chagrined at his behavior, his gaze drifted around the eight faces staring at him.

He opened his mouth to speak his apology and make a remark about his mistaken perception of threat, when Gimli stepped forward eyes blazing in anger.

"Just what are you doing?"

"I meant no harm, Master Dwarf"

But Gimli would not have him finish. "No harm! You stupid, bloody elf! I was just reaching the best part of my tale only to have you attack me?"

"I meant no attack"

Gimli cut him off with an angry gesture, and without thinking, tore the arrow from the elf's loose hold. In fury, he snapped it in two earning gasps from the hobbits and groans from the humans. The elf stared in horror at the two pieces of his arrow that Gimli had thrown to the ground.

Gimli spoke again, not giving the elf a chance to comment. "I should have known you would behave so dishonorably! Never trust an Elf! Especially an Elf of _Mirkwood_!"

Anger twisted Legolas' fair face, but he made a valiant effort to control it. He took a deep breath, unconsciously searching for the scent of grass, trees, and flowers that would have had a calming effect on him. With their absence, he was only able to maintain a tenuous hold on his emotions. Unbidden memories of Elrond's Council claimed him, and he saw himself holding back his elven comrades when last this dwarf insulted him. He had no one to hold back now except himself, and he found it had been far easier to maintain his own calm when he was responsible, as the ranking member of the Mirkwood delegation, for his friends' behavior as well as his own.

"I would ask you, _dwarf_, to choose your words more wisely."

The dwarf took a step closer to Legolas, cold, brown eyes glaring up into equally cold blue ones. "My words are wise enough, _elf_!"

"You insult my people! You insult my father's realm!"

No one would have expected it possible, but Gimli seemed angrier than he had a moment before. "Your _father's_ realm! Are you the son of that half-witted drunkard, Thranduil?"

Aragorn stepped forward unable to leave Legolas alone now. He knew his friend well enough to know he wouldn't take such insults without returning them in kind, and if they allowed this to escalate, the effect on the Fellowship would be impossible to predict.

"Peace, Gimli! _Sidh, _Legolas!" He held both hands out away from his body and stood easily between the two. "You would both be wise to consider what you say." 

Legolas took a step back forcing his clenched hands to open, forcing his rage down. He spared a glance to his broken arrow and stooped to retrieve it. Once he was again upright, he looked at Gimli. Forcing a serenity he did not feel to grace his fair features, Legolas spoke softly, but imbued his words with all the kingly command he had learned in his father's court. "I am not my father. I am his son. Do not think to take up the feud between your father and mine unless you are certain that your own is as blameless as you think."

Gimli sputtered for a moment, but was restrained by Boromir, whom, Aragorn now realized had stepped into the fray when he had. Boromir knelt then to look Gimli in the eye. "Please, Gimli, do not pursue this."

Gimli grumbled, but, noting the stares of the Hobbits, wanted to appear the more noble. "Very well. I will not waste my time, nor hinder the efforts of the Fellowship." He said no more, and moved away from Legolas to spend his time sitting by the wall and feeling superior to elves everywhere.

Aragorn sighed releasing the built up tension with great relief. He wanted to follow after Legolas, but he recognized that the mood around the campsite had definitely soured. He would have to do something to distract the Hobbits first.

  
It took less time than he expected, but twenty minutes later, Merry and Pippin were singing a drinking song from the shire, while Sam and Frodo laughed and clapped. Even Gandalf, Gimli, and Boromir appeared to be enjoying themselves.

He was just about to move off to Legolas' side when he noticed Gandalf staring at him. Knowing he was being summoned he moved off to sit at the Wizard's side. Gandalf knew Aragorn's patience was wearing thin, so hastened to his point. "You did well avoiding a more serious altercation, Aragorn, but we must watch those two carefully. They will either become the best of friends or the worst of enemies."

"Friends!" Aragorn scoffed. "Gandalf, they clearly hate each other."

Gandalf smiled. "Not so clearly, Son of Arathorn. Gimli hates elves, and Legolas hates dwarves, but neither knows enough of the other to hate him as an individual."

"Gandalf, if this is truly a problem for him"

"I am sure it is. I just do not know how big a problem it is. He is likely trying to avoid having some members of the Fellowship from discussingwhat happened. After all, there were others involved." He considered the elf for a moment, and by either whim or some hidden internal signal, he relented. He gestured to Legolas where he sat trying to repair his arrow. "Go on, then. Talk to him. He may be ready."

Aragorn stared at Gandalf for a moment trying to find the hidden meaning in the Istar's words, but he had to give up. Glancing back at Legolas, he rose and crossed the campsite to his friend's side.

To be continued


	4. part 4

****

The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for disclaimer.)

Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

  
Please see replies to reviews at end of chapter, and please review.

Part 4

Legolas wished for mountain tops, hillsides, green grass, and trees. Whenever he was upset he would climb to the top of the nearest tree and allow the sweet embrace of nature's sentinels to ease his troubled heart. The sight of the stars that he knew winked somewhere over his head on the other side of the stifling stone would be a welcome one as well. He could not even get too far away given the cramped campsite and the fact that the radiance from Gandalf's staff only illuminated so much of the cavern. He felt a deep reluctance to leave its circle.

He could not repair his arrow. The most he could do was to remove vane and fluke to be used later when he could fashion another shaft. He was carefully doing just that, marveling at the wastefulness of dwarves, when he became aware of Aragorn's approach.

Aragorn sat, watching his friend at work. "You are quite the fletcher, _mellonin_." 

"A warrior must know how to care for his weapons if he is to be effective."

"As a warrior, you have always been much more than 'effective'."

Legolas smiled. "You did not seek me out to compliment my skills as fletcher or warrior, Estel. What is it you wish?"

Aragorn considered the question, and for a moment, allowed his heart to speak. _"Aníron Imladris na."_ (I wish to be in Rivendell.)

Legolas smiled. _"Leiest ah Arwen Undomiel._ But that is _not_ why you wish to talk to me."

(You wish to be with Arwen.)

__

"Anírach i dulu nín?" (Do you need my help?)

Legolas looked away. _"Ú-chenion."_ (I do not understand.)

"Legolas, I know what troubles you. If you need to talk, I am here."

"I know. I do not wish to dwell on the past."

Aragorn studied his friend's profile. "Legolas, what happened to you was..."

"It happened a long time ago, Estel. I do not wish to talk about it." Legolas dared not look in his friend's eyes. 

Aragorn was about to press the point when, to his surprise, Gimli stepped forward. "Elfwhat meant you by your words?"

"Which words were they? For I know many and they have various meanings."

Gimli grumbled for a moment as though the elf's words were the most irritating he had ever heard. "If you have accusations to make against Gloin, I would know of them!"

"I make no accusations. As Gloin's feud is with Thranduil, so my own ire is solely Gloin's. I have no quarrel with you, Gimli."

"Ah!" A triumphant smile lit the dwarf's face. "There you see the elven mind at work!" He spoke loudly so that all their company could hear. "He warns me not to hold a grudge against Thranduil for what that Elven King did to my father, yet he feels no compunction to hold himself to the same standard!"

"I do hold myself to the same standard."

"You lie!"

"You misunderstand!"

Gandalf appeared as if by magic in the center of their small camp. "Perhaps, Legolas, you can explain to Gimli's satisfaction."

"Satisfaction? I think not." Legolas looked at Gandalf and realized he had held his tongue and kept his privacy as long as he was able. The Fellowship should not be hindered by a feud he and Gimli seemed more than capable of perpetuating. 

The Wizard gave the slightest of nods, knowing and understanding the need Legolas had to keep this memory to himself, or rather, _from_ himselfhidden away deep below the surface, but also believing the Fellowship might yet help him through this dark trial. 

Legolas dropped his eyes for a moment then looked back up at the Istar giving a small nod of his own. He then turned his attention to the dwarf who stood before him. "I will tell my tale as you have asked, Gimli, but I ask you to remember that you have asked it of me. I would just as gladly allow you the bliss of ignorance."

"Dwarves are not ignorant!"

Gandalf stepped forward, his irritation plain in face and voice. "All creatures are ignorant of something, Gimli!" He gestured for everyone to take a seat and listen to Legolas' story.

Legolas turned his attention inward briefly, gathering his resolve to look into the very memories he had tried so hard to suppress since that moment on Caradhras when Frodo had announced they would go through the mines. Thoughts of Frodo brought another fear to mind. "Gimli, your resentment of my people is natural, and I am only gladdened that Frodo does not bear me the same ill will." He looked across the camp to Frodo, his eyes pleading for this to be true. He would hate to think the Hobbit would resent him, for certainly that would cost him four friends, not just one. 

"I don't understand, Legolas. Why would I be angry with you?" Frodo was bewildered by the very thought.

"Bilbo received the same harsh treatment as Gloin in my father's kingdom, imprisoned for the sake of a few baubles that had not yet even caught my father's eye so much as his mind."

"Not quite the same, as Bilbo got away and got them out again, and it has always made such a wonderful tale! Besides, _you_ didn't do it, Legolas."

The elf smiled. "No, I did not." He looked again at Gimli who sat stiffly next to Gandalf. "A year or so after Bilbo, Gloin, and the rest of their company escaped from the Mirkwood dungeons, I was riding towards the Misty Mountains. I was alone, having just come from a brief visit to Imladris"

**

****

FLASHBACK

Legolas rode towards home in no great hurry. His visit to Imladris had been as eventful as usual with Estel, Elrohir, and Elladan occupying much of his time and attention. The three elves and one human had enjoyed each other's company as always, and he had been reluctant to leave, but he knew he had to go now, or risk being forced to stay until after winter. Though he knew he would be welcome to stay, he also knew his father expected him home. 

Two days into the journey, Legolas had slowed his horse to drink in the beauty of his surroundings when he heard voices. They spoke quickly and softly as if afraid to be overheard. Legolas drew his horse to a halt and listened more intently straining his elven hearing to its limits. There–off to the right. He dismounted and crept through the trees. A short distance away there stood eight dwarves. The sight surprised him. He had imagined dwarves rarely left their caves and minessomewhat like orcs, or so his father would have him believe. He was now on the edge of his father's realm, and, though within his rights to demand they leave Mirkwood, Legolas would never have done such a thing unless he knew they meant harm either to the trees or to the Woodland Elves. 

Just as he had decided to go on and leave the dwarves behind, he heard a sound behind him. He whirled around to face the new threat even as his hands moved to his quiver and bow. He paused, arrow drawn but not yet nocked and looked down at a dwarf still a distance away. _That brings the total to nine,_ he thought, realizing the original eight he had seen had not moved. Wary, but not yet afraid for his life, Legolas spoke to the dwarf. "Greetings. How came you all to Mirkwood?"

The dwarf glared at Legolas, axe at the ready, and took several steps forward. He studied the elf's lithe figure, his eyes returning again and again to the bow the elf held. "Drop your weapons, elf, and come with me."

"I will not." Legolas would never willingly disarm himself.

"I have but to shout for my friends and they will come."

"As do I." Legolas hoped his lie would go undiscovered. He was not about to admit to being alone. Let the dwarf think the treetops were crawling with elves.

The smile that spread across the diminutive creature's face proved he knew Legolas had lied. "You will drop your weapons, Elf!" He said the last word as though it was a curse, and Legolas did not doubt that, to him, it was.

While the elf considered his options, he heard again a sound behind him. He moved slightly to his right, trying to keep both the new threat and the old visible, but with no one to watch his back, and nine dwarves scattered about, he knew it was only a matter of time before they surrounded him.

His wait was shortened as the newly arrived dwarf called to his comrades. "Come! See what Kulin has found!" 

The heavy sound of stomping feet assailed Legolas' ears. He considered trying to race up the tree that stood not five feet away, but the lowest branches were too high above his head and too awkward to reach from his position. Still, he had to try something before they reached him. He took a steadying breath, and dashed for the tree only to feel something strike the back of his head. He fell senseless to the blanket of leaves that covered the ground.

****

End Flashback

**

"You're saying the dwarves attacked you unprovoked? I will not listen to such nonsense! You must have done something!" Gimli crossed his arms in irritation, glaring at the elf.

"Gimli, you asked me to tell you this. If you would prefer not to know it, I will gladly keep it to myself."

"Do let him finish, Gimli!" Pippin pleaded. "It reminds me of Bilbo's tales."

Aragorn was staring at his friend. He remembered the visit Legolas had mentioned, but knowing what was to come did not make it easier to hear. Besides, he had often thought that he had heard a less than accurate version of the tale. Legolas had a habit of making his own hurts seem less than they were. It would be best for Legolas if this retelling could be quickly over. "Gimli, if you have no wish to hear the rest," Aragorn said speaking as softly as Legolas had, "Then please have the courtesy to allow the rest of us to hear it." He gestured for Legolas to continue.

**

****

Flashback

Legolas could hear them talking. Harsh dwarven voices discussed what to do with him. He waited, listening to their plans trying to assess his situation. His head throbbed from the blow they'd given him. His hands were so tightly bound behind his back that he'd lost all feeling in them. His shoulders ached from the awkward position, and the familiar weight of his bow and quiver was gone from his back. He was near his home, but not yet near enough that a casual patrol might find him. He paused as he heard the arguing start anew.

"I say we leave him where he is. Let them find him like this. He will surely tell them it was dwarves who did this to him! We will have gotten back at that drunkard king for what he did and he will cause us no further trouble."

Legolas almost moaned. These dwarves had some history with his fathersomething that made them want to make an example of him. From the sound of their voices, he could tell that they formed a rough circle around him, probably staring down at his prone, motionless form as they debated his immediate fate.  


More suggestions were bandied about ranging from tying him to a tree to tossing him into the river. One voice, one that Legolas had not yet heard, raised above the others. "I think we should first question this elf. Find out who he is and where he was going. He was heading towards Mirkwood, not away from it. Perhaps he is visiting from Rivendell or just passing through. I would have my revenge on Thranduil mean something. If this elf is not from his palace, he might not ever be told what happens here tonight."

The dwarves all agreed, and Legolas wondered if they were simply going to wait for him to awaken. As soon as the thought formed in his head, a great splash of icy cold water doused his body. He tried to sit up more from the shock of it than the temperature, but with his body so awkwardly bound he merely rolled about blinking as water streamed down his face and into his eyes. He shook his head trying to clear away some of the excess and heard the dwarves' laughter.

"So you are now awake, Elf! Tell us who you are."

__

"Pedich i lam edhellen?" Legolas asked trying to give himself time to come up with some strategy. He could not tell them who he was. Things would quickly escalate out of his controlnot that they were anywhere within his control at the moment. (Do you speak elvish?)

"Speak Westron, Elf!"

"Perhaps he is too stupid to speak the Common Tongue."

"He spoke it earlier."

"Maybe the blow to the head damaged his delicate elven brain!" Loud guffaws and chortles greeted that happy speculation.

Legolas, still lying on the ground, found himself in the odd position of looking up at dwarves. He tried to determine who was in charge.

__

"Gerin tol od Imladris. Legolas i eneth nín." He'd given his own name, but he doubted they knew Thranduil had a son at all let alone one by the name Legolas. He doubted they knew enough Elvish to determine from what he'd said that Legolas was his name. (I have come from Imladris. My name is Legolas.)

"Speak plainly, elf!" The dwarf in front of him demanded impatiently pulling back his leg and kicking Legolas in the ribs. The blow was powerful. The pain incredible, yet Legolas could tell he'd pulled it at the last minute to keep from seriously injuring his captive. They did not mean to kill him, but they were not above mistreating him.

Legolas glared up at the dwarf refusing to speak. It was the glare that cost him. The dwarf who had kicked him, took a step closer and squinted at the elf, bound and wet at his feet. In a moment, he began to chuckle. The chuckle grew to a hearty laugh. His companions stared at the dwarf, wondering what had happened. When he didn't stop to explain himself, they began to demand it of him.

"What is it, Gloin?"

"Oh, come on! Out with it!"

"What do you find so amusing?"

Gloin pointed at Legolas. "That face! That look! The stern and irritating glare of this elf is identical to Thranduil's! We have the vile king's kin in our hands! The whelp is undoubtedly the king's son!"

Legolas held his tongue. He did not want to make matters worse, though he imagined the dwarves would prefer to embarrass him rather than cause him any permanent damage.

"Are you, whelp? Are you Thranduil's son?" Gloin kicked him again, still pulling it back a bit, but allowing the blow to hit harder than the last time.

The prince decided to keep talking elvish as it seemed to upset them. _"Im Legolas Thranduilion."_

Gloin glared at him. "We know who you are. So you might as well speak Westron, boy."

The pretense was not helping so he decided it would be best to give it up since the dwarf was pulling back his leg to let loose another kick. With luck, they would leave him as he was as a lesson of sorts to his father. He could still call to his horse and walk out of here. "I am no boy. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood."

"I knew you were, lad. I knew you were. You look just like that haughty father of yours." Gloin looked at his companions. "Let's teach the lad–and his father–a lesson. We should return the kindness he showed to me when I was a 'guest' at his palace!" The dwarf stepped forward and moved as if to grab Legolas. 

Though Legolas' hands were tied, his spirit was not. The prince swept his long legs outward and tripped the dwarf. Gloin fell hard landing with a thud. Legolas kept his satisfaction to himself only allowing his captors to see anger and defiance on his face. 

Legolas, outnumbered and bound, soon lost the fight.

****

End Flashback

**

  
"Oh, this is too much! The innocent elfling caught by the vicious dwarves! What other tales can you tell? Maybe you could try one closer to the truth the next time!"

"Gimli, I will not have you interrupt him again." Gandalf glared at the dwarf allowing his own not inconsiderable might to penetrate his words. Gimli nodded and was silent.  


Aragorn glared at the dwarf and would have added his own words to the discussion if Pippin had not spoken first.   


"What did they do, Legolas?" Pippin leaned forward, arms wrapped around his legs enraptured with the story.

"I think I should begin the next part of the tale." Gandalf sighed, as he lit his pipe and began to speak.

**

****

Flashback

Gandalf the Grey sat on his horse singing a traveling song to himself. He had had a strange urge a day or so earlier to head off in this general direction, and he knew better than to ignore such feelings. He'd packed enough food and water for several weeks, and had ridden, sometimes slowly, sometimes with great speed, allowing whim to choose his direction and swiftness. In this way he soon covered quite a bit of ground– some of it twice.

For some reason, he'd been thinking quite a bit about Bilbo Baggins and the trip the Hobbit had made last year. Someone somewhere was trying to tell him something, and he was quite weary of it. Sometimes, he wished signs would be clearly written in Westron in letters two Hobbit's-feet high rather than just being a bit of an inclination to move to the left or right at a cantor or a gallop.

As he traveled, he found himself in Mirkwood, and an unease settled on him. This, then, was where he was needed. He slowed again to a gentle walk speaking softly to his steed to calm his fears. The growing evil that permeated Mirkwood seemed stronger each year. Thranduil and his people tried to keep it back, but there was only so much they could do. 

  
Oddly, when his thoughts turned towards Thranduil's people, he felt a presence to his left. In moments, one of Mirkwood's patrols stepped before him.

__

"Mae govannen, Mithrandir!" Amrod stepped lightly to Gandalf's side. "What brings you to Mirkwood?" (Well met, Gandalf.)

"I know not, Amrod Culnámo. I go where I am needed, and I feel I must be here."

Amrad frowned. "Your words are not unexpected, but I like not their portent, Mithrandir."

"Why? What has happened?"

"King Thranduil has sent many patrols out to search for Prince Legolas. He is late back from Imladris."

Gandalf knew this was why he was here. He spoke long to Amrod, and soon found himself joining in the search. He moved off towards the opposite end of Mirkwood from whence the elven group had appeared. He rode swiftly pushed to speed by some inner guide. He had a feeling he would be too late.

****

End Flashback

To be continued

Darcy Took: Thank you for your kind words. I love to write and won't stop so long as I still have ideas!

slightly-psychotic: Thank! I'm trying to post as quickly as I can. I'm glad you agree about what I said concerning the relationships between characters in the books and the movies. I've always wanted more, and I guess a lot of people do as well, judging by the number of posts to LOTR on faniction.net!

Old Soul: Well, I don't intentionally leave each chapter as a cliffie, but I guess I have a sense for the dramatic. Hee! Don't worry. They won't all beat least I don't think so! LOL!

Skye: Thank you! I'll try to post quicker!

Tinania Lindaleriel: I based the bit with Legolas waking up on the thought that if a frazzled elf were startled out of sleep in surroundings he considered dangerous, he might be dangerous as well!

White Wolf: Thanks! That was my thought, too. There was so much not explored in the book and movie! (Also, please don't keep me waiting for the next chapter of The Wrong Path. Any of you other readers who haven't read that storywhat are you waiting for? Go there now!)

Lirenel: I promise all will be revealed!

MoroTheWolfGod: I'm not telling!

Karri: Thank you! It means a lot, especially since I like your stories so much. (I'm looking forward to the next chapter of The Bitterness of Mortality!)

Neko: Ah, yes! Gimli's reactions! It might not be what you expect.

  
Daisy Brambleburr: Thank you, I will!

  
ElvenEyes: Not to worry! I don't write 'character death' stories. If they didn't die in the book, they won't die in my fics. (Even Haldir lives in my fics!)

Andmetwen: YES! Adding this story to your favorites list is actually a wonderful incentive!!! Thank you!!

Ryoko, Ash, BassClarElf, Tinnuial, Crazy Elf, Angel of Death, Me, Tamara, Lirenel: Thank you!

MysticalMagic: Thanks! I've gotten a lot of positive feedback about the friendship between Legolas and Boromir. I'm glad that so many people like that! 

Ivory Novelist: Thanks! I've always preferred long chapters myself. Again, I'll try to cut down on the cliffies.

Lamiel: Oh! I can't wait to read your story. Please let me know when it's posted! The Elvish looks impressive, but I have no idea if it's right. I rely heavily on books and website references, and for all I know everything I've written is elvish gibberish. Like, for instance, in the film, Arwen says "Im Arwen." Meaninh I am Arwen. The books I have contradict this! I wish there was some definitive source! If anyone knows of one, let me know!

Alexa: Me, too! Boromir and Legolas didn't have a lot to do in the book. I'm trying to keep them busy.

Well, I promise to post the next chapter as soon as possible. I don't want to keep you all waiting too long! I'm thrilled that you're enjoying this! Keep reading and reviewing!


	5. part 5

****

The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for disclaimer.)

****

Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

Please Note: Thanks to my penchant for cliffhangers, there's a lot in this chapter that explains a lot in the last chapter. Most of which would have made things a bit clearer for a lot of you judging by the comments I received. I have no one to blame but myself. This was 90% written when I posted the last chapter, but I've been fine-tuning the language. Some of you have jumped to conclusions a bit prematurely, but again, that's my fault for leaving things where I did. Suffice to say, all is not what it seemed in the last chapter!

Please see replies to reviews at end, and please review. 

Part 5

"I did not realize you were out looking for me." Legolas stared at Gandalf, and Gandalf was surprised to note that the Elf did seem more pale than just a short time ago. He raised the level of light emanating from his staff eliciting a slight smile from the elf who recognized what he was doing and why.

"Nor were you meant to, Legolas. But, before you continue your story, I have yet more to tell."

**

****

Flashback

Gandalf rode through the forest intent on his quest, but something else still called to him. Some distraction, some important piece of information he had yet to uncover was beckoning to him from somewhere within the depths of Mirkwood. Trusting his instincts and the Valar to guide him, he followed where they led.

He heard the sound first. Voices arguing, getting louder by the moment and from the bluster and the language he knew that he heard dwarves. He closed his eyes in concentration to hear what was being said before charging through the bushes to his right and standing in the midst of the group of dwarves to whom he'd listened.

"Gloin! What do you here among Mirkwood's trees!"

Gloin whirled around to face the Wizard, startled by his sudden appearance. "One day, Gandalf, I will know how you do that!" The dwarf stared hard at the Istar trying to determine how much he'd heard.

Gandalf stared back at him, and in that moment, Gloin knew. "Well, if you heard why we are arguing, I suppose you must be here about that elf."

"What has happened?" The Wizard would not accuse, and for that, Gloin was grateful.

"We found Thranduil's son. In payment for our kind treatment at his father's hands, we left the elf prince unconscious in a cave." He held up a hand to forestall any comments Gandalf might make.

"Now hear me out, Gandalf! It was my intention to leave the elf lost but unharmed! I assumed he would wake up in the cave and fumble about for a bit before finding the exit!"

"That is not what happened, is it?"

Gloin glared at Kulin, who had the grace at least to appear to be embarrassed by the withering stare that would have made a lesser dwarf crumble like stone. "You will tell him what you just told us, Kulin!"

Gandalf's attention turned to the other dwarf, as did everyone else's. 

"When we'd traveled a short distance I contrived a reason to go back alone. I bound the elf so he could not move."

"Go on!" Gloin spat the words.

Kulin sighed heavily. "I gagged and blindfolded him as well. He is quite helpless."

Gandalf stared intently at Kulin, a strange look upon his face. With a suddenness that startled the dwarves, he pointed his staff at Kulin. With both hands, he held it steady pointing towards the dwarf as though holding something of great evil at bay. "What do you here? Be gone, servant of evil!" A faint glow emanated from the end of the staff, and then shot out in a great arc towards Kulin.

One of the others made as if to intervene, but Gloin, who knew Gandalf as well as any dwarf could, prevented any interference.

"You did not mean to tell them what you'd done! You meant for him to be left there to aid some evil purpose." Gandalf's voice swelled in an alarming crescendo, and should have been impossible for the dwarf not to obey, had he been all dwarf.

Kulin for his part laughed. At first it was the pleasing sound of hearty dwarven laughter, but then it changed somehow and took on a more evil taint. The laughter gradually faded as a black mist appeared above Kulin's head. It hovered there a moment, more than mist, but less than solid, until, at some unheard signal, it shot off towards the east faster than any eye could track.

Gandalf withdrew his staff and knelt upon one knee over Kulin. He checked the dwarf for injury, and was heartened when the dwarf blinked himself to awareness, a confused but grateful look upon his countenance. "I thank you, Gandalf! I do not know what has happened, but I do know you have rid me of a great evil."

Gloin stepped forward with the others close behind him. "Kulin?" His whisper was soft for a dwarf and held more confusion than any had ever heard from him.

Gandalf smiled. "He is well, and quite himself now, Gloin. A servant of the Enemy held him. There are many ways to sow dissent among the free peoples of Middle-earth. The enemy grows cunning in his efforts, though he has not the strength to do more than perpetuate feuds where they have long existed." The Istar looked again at Kulin, and was satisfied that he would recover.

Gloin stepped towards the Wizard once more. "We should go with you to find the prince and then take the boy to his father. I would tell the King myself what has happened and not let him decide such things on his own!"

Gandalf shook his head. "Noble a thought as that might be, Gloin, your presence would serve only to exacerbate an already volatile situation. No. I will find the prince myself. I have been searching for him anyway, since I ran into one of Mirkwood's patrols and learned of his disappearance."

Reluctantly, Gloin nodded. "He will know we were involved at any rate. We sent word to his father in case the elf planned to keep his humiliation to himself." He did not wait for Gandalf's response. "I will tell you where he is."

Gandalf shook his head. "I have discerned that already, though it is a distance from here." He looked to Gloin. "You say you sent word to Thranduil that you had humiliated Legolas. If that is so, the Elves of Mirkwood likely hunt you. I suggest you leave Mirkwood before an elven patrol finds you. I will handle Thranduil and his people. I will not allow the dwarves to be blamed for this."

  
Reluctantly, Gloin agreed. "Swiftly, Gandalf. I shudder to think what might have happened by now."

Gandalf nodded. "I have dawdled here when I am needed elsewhere, though I am glad to have been of service to you. If this creature was what I believe it was, Prince Legolas may be in graver danger than I first assumed." He nodded to the still stunned dwarves and headed towards the cave that hid the Prince of Mirkwood without bothering to see if the dwarves would follow his advice.

****

End Flashback

**

Legolas stared at Gandalf in amazement. He spoke in a soft whisper, unable to comprehend that the thing to which he'd clung as truth for so long had been a lie. "Then it was not Gloin's doing after all." 

Gandalf shook his head. "No."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Gloin took his responsibilities as seriously as any of your own kind. He felt he was responsible since he led that group. He would have claimed responsibility if he could. I spoke to your father, and we agreed the most important thing was for you to recover from your trials." He shrugged. "I admit, I assumed he would tell you after your full recovery." 

He looked affectionately at the young elf who had endured so much. "Whatever injuries those dwarves inflicted upon you, my friend, it was the Enemy's influence that was truly to blame."

Legolas nodded, accepting this explanation. "I should have guessed this. I always felt something was wrong, but the cave held such terror for me that I could think of little else. I had thought that the evil dwelled in the cavethat Gloin had left me there not knowing what dwelt therebut caring only for his own revenge against my father." 

  
Gandalf nodded. "The evil that took Kulin may have centered on the cave. Certainly, it came from Dol Guldor, but it was the influence of that evil that caused the dwarves to behave as they did. It is unlikely Gloin would have sensed it, though, in that, it achieved some small part of its evil purpose."

Legolas turned to Gimli. "Though I assumed he knew not to what he had abandoned me, I blamed Gloin for all I suffered. I am sorry for that, and for my angry words about your father's behavior."

Gimli was surprised at the elf's words, but could not accept the elf's apology in clear conscience. "Nay. The Wizard is right. My father would have claimed responsibility for it if anyone had asked. Besides whichyou were not the only one making accusations earlier." That he'd made such an admission clearly surprised him almost as much as Legolas' apology had. He cleared his throat to chase away embarrassment. "Now, elf, on with your tale."

"Oh, yes!" Pippin exclaimed. "Tell us what happened next."

Boromir laughed at Pippin's excitement. "You act as though you do not know he lived through his ordeal! He sits here to tell you of it, so you know how it must end!"

Sam shook his head. "Pardon me, Mister Boromir, but, as my Gaffer says, a good story is in the details."

Aragorn smiled. "That it is, Samwise." He turned to his friend and bade him continue. Legolas had always been reticent to speak of the incident before, and Aragorn had only been privy to the sketchiest of accounts. He, too, would know all that Legolas would share.

Legolas hesitated, almost unable to continue. When he looked again at the expectant eyes of his audience, he smiled, though it was a sad smile. "Forgive me, my friends. It is difficult to speak of it. For so long, I have wanted so desperately to forget."

  
Aragorn placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, giving the elf the resolve to continue.

**

  
**Flashback**

Legolas felt pain. His head throbbed. His hands, arms, and shoulders ached dully. His ankles and feet were numb. He woke slowly, aware more of sensations than anything else. He felt the pain and numbness first and tried to wet his lips. That was when he realized that he wasn't just bound hand and foot, he was also gagged and blindfolded. 

He inhaled sharply taking in a musty, stale odor. He was face down in the dirt. He wiggled, testing his bonds, but they were so tight, he only caused more pain by moving. He listened carefully, hoping to discern more about his surroundings. He heard none of the heavy sounds the dwarves had made earlier, and he dared hope they'd gone.

Soon, he determined they had done just that. They'd left him alone, unarmed, bound, blindfolded, and gagged, and he had no idea where he was, nor how he could help himself. 

  
Legolas found he could no longer keep track of the time. He had tried, but no sunlight ever touched him, so he could not use its path across his body to measure the hours. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but judging from the thirst and hunger, he imagined it had to have been several hours at least.

He had no idea if the dwarves had left him on the fringes of Mirkwood, or if they had taken him somewhere else. He knew only that he was deep inside a cave or mine and though he tried to crawl, he had no idea if he drew nearer escape or further from it. He tried making some sounds, noises to draw help to him, but the gag muffled them. He stopped when he realized that what sound he could produce wasn't even loud enough to raise an echo in the cavern.

He moved his arms and legs, hoping to loosen the bonds, but they would not budge. He stopped when his hands grew sticky with blood. He searched the immediate vicinity, groping awkwardly with bloody hands, for a stone sharp enough upon which to cut his bonds. There was nothing he could use.

His immediate concerns drifted again and again to his location. Was he well hidden? Was he near a trail of any kind? Would the dwarves be sending a message to his father to gloat about what they'd done so that the King would send out search parties? He seemed to recall one of them–Kulin–saying something about that. 

Had he been gone long enough to be missed, or would his father assume he had stayed in Imladris, while Lord Elrond, Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir believed him safe in his father's palace?

Worry settled upon him. He was sure he could not have been here long enough to account for the strange sensations he had noticed. A fog seemed to fall over him, making movement difficult, and his thoughts strayed to dark suppositions, and darker dreams.

The dreams seemed other than elven, somehow, and, though he tried to draw himself from them, he could not. In his mind's eye, he saw a dark shape coalesce into a vaguely human form, but this, he sensed, was no human. He tried to speak to it, wondering at his own sanity, for had any elf told Legolas he'd tried to speak to a figure in his dream, he would have sent him to the healers for aid.

No words would form, however, and he seemed as immobile and helpless in the dream world as he was in reality. With no other recourse, he waited.

The figure approached, and, with each step, Legolas felt an icy dread grow in his heart. Closer and closer it came to him until he could see nothing except the black shadow. Fear swelled within him and he struggled with his bonds frantic to escape. 

The shape did not speak to him in any language he could easily comprehend, but he knew what speech it was. The Black Speech was not something you could hear and not know for what it was. The very sound of the words made him ill and weak. Beneath his blindfold, he clenched his eyes tightly shut.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, the demon form and speech waiting for him each time he lost his battle to stay awake and alert. The pain in his head throbbed with every heartbeat. Hours or days might have passed without his knowing.

A new concern claimed his thoughts, shocking him fully awake. He heard a soft sound. An experienced hunter, he knew immediately what it was. Wolves.

****

End Flashback

**

"Wolves!" Pippin cried. 

Legolas nodded. "I was relieved they were not wargs."

Pippin swallowed audibly.

Gimli saw no reason to try to hold his tongue. "I am glad we know that it was some demon's work and not Gloin's, for my father would not have left you alone and unable to defend yourself, and I could not have held my tongue and listened to such slanders about him! I am surprised you thought he would do such things!"

"His anger towards my father was great." He looked the dwarf in the eye. "That, I always understood."

"Youyou didyou do?" Gimli seemed unsure if he should believe Legolas' claim.

"I do, but Gloin judged all elves by one act of Thranduil's. It was not even a typical act. He saw your father and his company as a threat. They were neither entirely innocuous in their actions nor forthcoming with their reasons for being in our realm. My father felt he had no choice." He paused, then pushed ahead trying to explain what life was like in the woods he called home. "My people fight the evil of Dol Guldor. We try–sometimes most desperately–to push back the darkness that has invaded our realm unbidden."

Boromir nodded in understanding, seeing a kinship with Legolas he had not recognized before. "As do mine. The White City and Mirkwood fight the same battle on different fronts."

Legolas' eyes locked on the man's. "We do, indeed, _mellonin_."

Aragorn interrupted then. "Why did you never tell me of these visions you beheld, _mellonin_? Perhaps I or possibly Lord Elrond could have helped."

Legolas shook his head, though glimmer of guilt in his eyes told Aragorn that he had long wanted to speak of this to his human friend. "I am sorry, _Gwadornin. _It was weeks before I saw you, and I did not wish to relive them again. I had only begun to leave it behind me." His voice dropped to a whisper, as his eyes fell from his friend's face. "Forgive me my weakness."(My brotherwhen referring to a close friend, but not a blood relativelike blood brother.)

Legolas' words surprised Aragorn. "Weakness? Nay, there was no weakness, and there is naught to forgive. I only wish to help you. If you found the help you needed elsewhere, I am only grateful that you were able to find it at all."

  
The two shared a smile touched by the long years of their close friendship.

Gimli, however, found no comfort in Legolas' tale. Though he accepted that some evil might have influenced his father and the company he kept, he liked not what Legolas thought of them. "Dwarves are not so heartless as you make them out to be."

"I have not made them out to be anything, Gimli. My father wronged your father and his friends. To some, Gloin was more than justified in what he–or rather, in what Kulin–in what they seemed to do." Legolas paused and looked to Gandalf. "Ai, Elbereth, but this is getting more confusing by the moment!" The Prince turned tired eyes on the dwarf once more. "I am sure he had no intention of killing me, else he would have done so rather than leave me there. It may be that, as he was not aware of the evil I faced, he was also not aware of my proximity to the wolves den."

Frodo looked at Gandalf, a knowing gleam in his eye. "You saved him from the wolves, didn't you?"

"In a manner of speaking, though I did not arrive until after they had gone." Gandalf continued to puff on his pipe as he again took up the narrative.

**

****

Flashback

Gandalf moved swiftly through Mirkwood's trees, pleased he was traveling alone as he would be so much more effective that way. He paused, pulling on his reigns to halt his horse. He closed his eyes mumbling slightly to himself. After a few moments, his eyes snapped open and he was off, tearing through the forest as though the Nazgûl were hard on his heels.  


Gandalf spoke loudly as his horse pushed forward. He had ridden without pause since parting with the dwarves. He rode without sleep, without food in his haste to find the missing prince. The Istar pointed his staff towards the heavens and spoke loudly in Quenya. Words of protection and safety echoed through the forest directed by his staff and his very thoughts to seek out Thranduil's son and keep him safe. It was a difficult spell, and it did not always work as intended.

As he cast the spell, repeating the words over and over, he only hoped to find the prince safe and whole. He had been keeping an eye on this elf for some time. The Lady Galadriel had once entreated him to ensure the Prince remained safe. She hinted that he had a great part to play in some future event of great importance. It was likely that she had seen something of it in her mirror. It was also likely that the Valar knew of this as well, and they had sent him his premonitory inclinations.

Something told him to stop. His horse whinnied unhappily at the abrupt halt kicking up clumps of dirt in his haste to do his master's bidding. Once the horse quieted, Gandalf dismounted reaching out all of his senses for some clue–any clue–as to why he had stopped here.

The trees had grown thick, and the terrain inclined sharply, so he left his horse where it was and took only his staff, food, water, and a sack of healing herbs with him. 

**

Legolas was motionless. He held his breath and silently pleaded with the Valar to send the wolves on their way. Without the aid of his eyes, he relied on his hearing to tell him where the nearest wolf stood. It was close, and it was toying with him. It stepped forward and Legolas could feel its hot breath on his neck. He dared not move, but he knew his arms had begun to tremble some time ago from being tied behind his back for so long. He only hoped the involuntary movement wouldn't entice the creature to attack.

He heard a deep growl and then felt the sharp teeth pierce his arm. The pain was overwhelming and he tried to cry out, but was unable. Preparing himself for a more vicious attack, Legolas was amazed when he heard the wolf suddenly whimper and run away. 

Straining not to move lest he attract its attention again, Legolas wondered what had caused the animal to flee. He was no threat to it. His brain felt foggy from lack of sleep, water, and food, but with the wolf gone, he chanced taking a breath. He'd held it for a time hoping to minimize any sounds that might nudge the wolf toward attack. He inhaled deeply, and his breath caught. Yes, he was sure now he had broken a rib or two. Kulin's solid kicks had done more damage than he'd thought. Breathing too deeply was painful. Breathing too shallowly made him feel as though he could not take in enough air. Being blind, mute, and unable to properly draw breath made it hard not to panic. He tried to stay alert for the return of the wolf or its packmates, but pain and drowsiness overcame him.

As soon as his mind touched the dream plain, he fought for release to blessed wakefulness. The evil presence was back, and Legolas knew it had come for his soul.

****

End Flashback

To be continued

Replies to Reviews:

Purplesmackers: Thanks!

Karri: I suppose that at first glance I was a bit hard on Thranduil, though that wasn't my intention. When I started writing this story, I was so worried about being too hard on Gloin that I suppose I went too far the other way. I suppose Thranduil and Gloin fans may still find offense with the way this thing turns out, but I want everyone to know it's not my intention to alienate anyone. If anything is bothersome, please let me know. Thanks, Karri, for pointing that out to me.

ElvenEyes: You really made me blush! What a wonderful thing to say! I hope he would be, or, at least that he wouldn't be offended! I'm not really into Slash fic either. I prefer the fics about the strong friendships among the characters. I'll try to keep posting updates quickly!

Tithen Min: Thank you! I try to work in small details because I love to find them in things that I read!

Rabbit_of_Iron: That wasn't too long a wait, was it? I promise to keep the updates coming. This story is winding down now, anyway.

Daisy Brambleburr: This takes place about a year after The Hobbit. Gloin and his friends are still upset by their treatment by Thranduil.

Felagund: I understand your feelings, and I respect your opinion but you can't really judge the story until you've read it all. I don't know what about what I've written makes you believe that I've portrayed Gimli as dumb, loud, and ignorant, or that I think no one in the Fellowship likes him. I love Gimli. Legolas and Gimli (and Gandalf!) haven't said all that needs saying, yet. This fic is not finished. Legolas isn't perfect and I'm not trying to say he is. Truthfully, however, Tolkien never gave us much by the way of details, and I always imagined he had some purpose in having Gimli and Legolas be the sons of Thranduil and Gloin. What better indication of the power of friendship than to have not just a dwarf and an elf become friends, but to have _this_ dwarf and _this_ elf become friends. My purpose in writing this the way that I am is to illustrate that Gimli and Legolas are each willing to see the other's point of view more so than their fathers were. Tolkien's intent, whatever that may have been, is likely lost to us, but I always found it a comforting notion that he'd written characters like these who can see past traditional hatreds and inherited prejudices and embrace each other as true friends. 

  
Darcy Took, Carol Stevenson, Fire-breathing-ferret, niani, Ash, Padfoot4ever, tamara, Legolas's fanatical fan girl: Thanks!

Darth Yak: Your review meant a lot to me, especially the comparison to Tolkien! I am terribly flattered that you like my style and dialogue enough to say that. I was hesitant to start to post in this fandom because I wasn't sure I could do it justice. Though I don't feel deserving of such high praise, hearing that I'm on the right track is a personal joy!

slightly-psychotic: Ooh! I'll try to remember not to keep you waiting too long! 

MysticalMagic: Thanks! I love Gimli's impatience and all around bluster. Sometimes, especially in my other fic, Fight the Fall, he just demands to be in a scene.

Ryoko: Sorry to have contributed to the nail biting, but I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter. I hope this one was just as good!

Neko: I do hope my characterization of Gimli is ringing true with everyone. I do have a purpose in what's being said. As I tried to explain to Felagund, I'm trying to make a clear delineation between the behavior of Gimli and Legolas versus the behavior of Gloin and Thranduil. The differences between father and son in both instances are, in my opinion, what make their friendship possible. Gimli is a blustery, impatient personality and both he and Legolas were quite willing to remain friendly enemies until things changed between them in Lothlorien. (I've often wished Tolkien had written a bit more about that!)

Angel of Death: see above messages to Neko and Felagund.

Skye: I am writing as fast as I can! Really I have the major plot points all worked out, but as Sam's Gaffer says, "a good story is in the details."

Andmetwen: I always thought the dwarves and Thranduil were all a little hardheaded.


	6. part 6

****

The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for disclaimer.)

Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

Please see replies to reviews at end, and please review. 

Part 6

**

"Why did the wolf not stay? I'd have thought it would! OW!" Pippin glared at Sam, rubbing the spot in his side where the older Hobbit had jabbed him with his elbow.

"Shut up and let him tell it, Pip!"

Merry cut them off before the argument could escalate. "It was Gandalf's spell, Pippin! Both of you be quiet and let him finish." He was enraptured by the story.

"What dreams did you have, Legolas?" Frodo looked up at Gandalf, then, worry creasing his small brow, and painting his eyes with fear. "Was it Sauron?"

Gandalf shook his head, even as Legolas shivered at the thought that Sauron could have touched him. "No, Frodo, though it was his servant. Dol Guldor was gaining strength, and I believe Sauron had sent his minions through Mirkwood to see how much influence he could wield over the elves. He had long been infuriated at the success, small though it was, of Thranduil's efforts to hold back the encroaching darkness."

Legolas nodded, choosing the mention of his father to shy away from reliving the horrors he'd endured alone in that cave. It was a difficult enough task when such thoughts usually came to him, but then he'd always had the sun or moon, trees or stars to help him overcome them. Now within the depths of Moria, he felt only too close to the terror. Every shifting shadow seemed there to devour his spirit, and the constant fear of that icy touch was becoming too much for him. "My father later told me some of what he was going through at the time."

**

  
**Flashback**

King Thranduil turned sharply at the sound of someone approaching from behind. His eldest son stood in the doorway. 

  
_"Adar..."_

Thranduil nodded, impatient for the report yet dreading to hear news other than that his heart most desired. "Speak, Aglarelen."

"Three of the patrols have returned. All report no sign of Legolas. One did happen upon Mithrandir. The Grey Pilgrim has taken up the search on his own, and even now is combing through the edges of Northern Mirkwood."

"Mithrandir? What was he doing in Mirkwood?"

"The captain, Amrod Culnámo, claimed Gandalf had known not why he wandered through our realm, but that his concern was great upon hearing of our missing prince." He seemed hesitant to continue but for better or worse, forged ahead. "Ada, perhaps it is time we sent word to Imladris. Lord Elrond may be able to spare a few patrols to assist in his search. Certainly, he and his sons would join us."

"Imladris is days away. If we wait for their help" Thranduil had little desire to finish that thought and was relieved when his guard approached the door interrupting. "Forgive me my king, butIt is Prince Legolas' horse—returned riderless."

Thranduil, moving swiftly and fearfully, reached the stables just ahead of his guards and his eldest son. The only thing he saw was Legolas' horse and the stable master examining it.

  
"Cairgalen, " he called. "How is he? Is there any signany clue at all?"

Cairgalen looked up at his liege with a great reluctance. "There is more than a clue, my King." He held out a small parchment. The stablemaster looked from the King to his heir and back again. "He has not suffered an accident. He was taken."

The King's eyes widened at the revelation. He had assumed his son had met with an unfortunate circumstance, not an enemy. He snatched the parchment from Cairgalen and unrolled it to scan the few lines it bore, but as he unrolled it, something fluttered to the ground. He looked down, and his heart froze in horror. There between his feet was a long, thin, blond, elven braid. When he looked up again, he wore his anger upon his face like a mask shielding his fair elven features behind an unforgiving anger. His son! They'd taken his son! He pushed away the fear and anguish the thought brought to him and focused on doing what he could to find his youngest child. "Call forth half our soldiers. We will ride as soon as we are ready. The remaining soldiers shall reinforce our defenses." Only when the others jumped to fulfill his orders did he pick up his son's braid, gently fingering the soft golden hair. 

His heart was full of concern and fear for his youngest son, and seeing this braid, reading the words on the parchment, shook him more than anything he'd seen in all his lifeincluding his father's death, the Last Alliance, and the doom of Mordor. 

**

Gandalf walked as swiftly as he was able, barely pausing to choose direction. He moved as one drawn forth in a trance, and in truth, this was close to the reality of it. He had known Legolas well through the years, but it hadn't been until recently, when Galadriel had remarked to him that she saw a great destiny for him that Gandalf had paid careful attention to the elf's strengths and weaknesses. Gandalf had long ago learned not to doubt the vision of the Lady of the Wood.

Gandalf recalled Legolas first appearances at Thranduil's court. The youngest prince was disinterested in the intricacies of life as a member of the Royal family, and given the immortal nature of elves, and the fact that Legolas had several older brothers, succession wasn't likely. Certainly, Thranduil would someday pass into the West, but it was unlikely all of his elder sons would accompany him at once.

Legolas' passion had always been the trees. No Woodland elf loved them as much as the youngest prince of Mirkwood. He would spend hours in the treetops moving from tree to tree as easily as a mortal walked upon the ground. He slept in them when he could and often spoke or sang to them.

Thranduil had remarked to Gandalf that his youngest son was more like his fair mother than any of their other children. She had loved the trees as he did. The King had confessed that the similarities Legolas bore to his mother sometimes distressed him, for he sometimes thought that his wife's tender-heartedness had made her more susceptible to the grief that eventually took her away from them. The death of their only daughter had been more than she could bear, and even the joy that was their youngest child could not fully eradicate it. Their daughter, oldest of their children, had died in an orc attack when Legolas had been quite young. 

Gandalf had done what he could to reassure the King that his son would only benefit from the inheritance of his mother's traits. "When I look at your youngest son, I see not a delicate creatureno more delicate than any other elf I have ever met. You are too close to him to realize, but _look_ at him now. He is strong. His arms and hands are those of a master archer. His legs propel him easily among the trees or across the open ground. Look again and see the power and strength in his limbs."

Thranduil had looked with fresh eyes upon his son, and did see a vigor and stamina he had not noticed before, but even this would not ease his troubled thoughts where his son was concerned. "Even the physically strong may die of grief, Mithrandir. His mother had such a tender heart, and his is a copy of hers."

The Wizard nodded. "He has a tender heart. That I will not argue. He has a great love for this world and all who dwell in it. He is young. The youngest of his kind I do believe, and he looks with new eyes upon an old world. Do you not remember how you felt when you were his age?" He paused, but when the King did not reply, he continued. "What you see as a weakness is truly his strength, Thranduil. His eyes are alight with his love for all of Arda. His passion and loyalty have already won him friends of the same ilk. Nay, Legolas is not weak and delicate. He is perhaps the strongest of your kin."

Gandalf had believed the words then, and he believed them now. Legolas was young and strong. The Istar banished the niggling worry that touched his heart. "Hold on Legolas." He whispered as he searched for signs of the prince. "You are strong. You are needed." He looked skyward for a moment, then closed his eyes in concentration. 

  
The Istar almost missed it. His search for the Prince was on a separate plane than the one the Elves of Mirkwood searched. It was internal yet external: incorporeal, yet relying heavily upon the perceptions of this reality. As he cast his mind to seek the light of one lost elf, the very presence he sought almost went unnoticed. It was dimming.

Gandalf opened his eyes slowly, concern creasing his brow. The elf was alone in a cave of some kind off to the west. He had been right about the location. His sense of the elf would be enough to guide him now. He sensed more there, though, than one lone elf. Something evil was close. "Hold on, my friend. Help is coming." With determination, he set off again.

****

End Flashback

**

"I do not understand what magic you use, Gandalf." Boromir admitted, wondering why the wizard chose to speak of things they could not understand.

"The magic is an old one, and, to find one member of an old race, it was necessary to listen carefully to"

"Iluvatar's song!" Legolas cried in triumph. "Often have I wondered how you could have stumbled upon me. I could not cry out for help. I could barely move, yet you found me in the darkness."

"It was necessary. You were needed."

Legolas shook his head, feeling slow and thick. "I remember hearing you say that then, but I have never understood your words. My father would surely have missed me, but I am not heir to his throne."

"He meant we needed youor, we would need you. That's right, isn't it Gandalf? Somehow you knew he would join the Fellowship." Frodo stared at Gandalf as if wondering how his old friend could have known about all of this so long ago yet never hinted at it.

Gandalf graced the Hobbit with an affectionate smile. "You give me more credit than I deserve, Frodo. It was not I, but Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood, who knew of the path Legolas would take."

"You are losing me again with your talk of predestination. I do not believe such things. Men make their destiny not the other way around!" Boromir argued, uncomfortable with the direction this had taken.

Aragorn waved a hand at his comrades just as it appeared the other Hobbits were about to join in. "Please, let us hear the rest before we discuss the finer details." His horror at what Legolas had withstood was plain upon his face. He turned expectant eyes on his friend.

Legolas took a deep steadying breath, and, this time completely aware of what he did, he leaned again towards Gandalf's light before continuing.

**

****

Flashback

The evil shadow drew nearer, cursing Legolas in the black speech, and somehow forcing the elf to understand that he would be consumed by evil. Fear now gave the elf strength, and he struggled in both the dreamscape and in reality. His body rolled across the cavern floor as, in the dream world, he tried to put some distance between himself and the black creature.

In his mind, all he could think to do to fight was to sing, and though he was gagged, his mind could recall with the perfection of elven memory, each moment of his life. Legolas thought then of the festivals held in Mirkwood. Feasting and singing lasted several days, and at dawn and dusk each day, he often joined in a song of thanks to Iluvatar. He recalled the song now in perfect clarity.

  
The shadow did not diminish, but neither did it advance, and in moments, he found himself wholly awake as though he'd been heaved from the dreamscape.

Legolas tried again to relieve the tension in his shoulders, but more often than not, his movements only caused more pain rather than reducing the strain already placed upon his quivering body. He knew his arm was bleeding where the wolf had bitten him, but he had no way to determine how bad an injury it was.

The darkness was unbearable, though here it seemed less palpable and cloying than in the dreamscape. The lack of sun and stars, the desire for the scent of flowers, the heartfelt wish to climb a treeLegolas thought keenly of these things, but truthfully his overwhelming thought was of water. While it was true that an elf could go much longer without the need of drink, food, or sleep than a mortal creature could, he could not do without them entirely. He had lost track of the time. Had it been hours, days, or weeks since he had left Imladris? He could no longer remember. Trying was fruitless, as he had no frame of reference.

He could not sing to pass the time in this plane of existence as he had in the dreamscape, though he tried. He first tried to remember songs as he had dreamed them, but the heavy press of evil made him lose his place. He tried then to sing aloud, but with the gag so tight and his mouth so dry, he was unable to make much of a sound let alone turn that sound into music. In truth, his mouth was so tightly gagged, he could not properly swallow. Of course, his mouth was so dry there was nothing to swallow anyway. He had tried to wriggle towards a wall thinking he might use it to climb at least to his knees, but had fallen forward. The agony in his chest as his broken ribs demanded his attention made him abandon his attempts to move more than necessary.

He strained his hearing, to try to learn more of his surroundings, but now he feared he had been here too long. He was sure he was starting to imagine things. For a moment he'd thought he'd heard someone calling his name. He shook his head to clear it and immediately regretted the action. His head throbbed as if from orc poison. He remembered Kulin striking several blows about his head, and he recalled the gleam of a blade before darkness had claimed him. As he considered whether the blows might be causing auditory hallucinations, he heard it again.

  
This time, he placed the voice. Why though, would he imagine he heard Mithrandir calling to him? He had not resolved that conundrum when the thought was driven from his mind at the approach of the evil shadow once again. How it could be so when he knew he was awake he did not know, but he felt the shadow's intent. It came upon him quickly, and his heart seized with terror as he realized he had no way to fight, and, even if he did, he lacked the strength to continue. A sense of failure flooded the elf, as he knew he would indeed be taken by evil.

"I have not the strength." He thought. The thought seemed to trigger another vision, though this vision seemed one of light.

In his mind's eye, he saw an elf so fair, her beauty took away what breath he had remaining. He heard a voice again, but this one was in his head, and he knew it somehow to belong to the elven lady he saw.

__

"Legolas Thranduilion,_lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad__Pain garolino bellas."_ (Legolas, Son of Thranduil, Hear my voice. Come back to the light. We have need of your strength.)

He wanted to speak, to answer her, but, though he tried, he could only mumble weakly around his the gag. _"Hiril nín"_ he called out to her. (My Lady!) Even as he did so, the vision faded from his mind. More frantically, not wishing to be alone any more even if the companionship was only in his mind, he called out again sickened by how weak he sounded. _"Hiril nín, u-aníron ner!"_ (My Lady, I don't want to be alone!)

He felt a tear slide down his cheek and in frustration he threw back his head and screamed feebly in the darkness, though he could barely hear it himself. 

To be continued

Menthol: Thanks! I'm glad you like it! And I will read your story ASAP!

Ryoko: Thanks! Should we start a nail biters support group?

MoroTheWolfGod: Soon! I promise!

Padfoor4ever: Thanks! I'm flattered. Writing is my lifeand readingI'll update soon!

  
The anonymous: How is Thranduil a monster? I'm not being sarcastic here, I need to know specifically what you think makes him seem like a monster. Especially since he's barely been in the fic before this chapter (chapter 6). I'm trying to portray his concern for his son. Remember, he believes the dwarves are responsible. He doesn't know anything about what Gandalf learned from them. But, then, maybe I'm projecting forward because I know how it ends. Seriously, though, if you could please give me a specific thing that makes Thranduil monsterish, maybe I can correct this or explain it. 

Tithen Min: Thank you! I'm glad to know I've done something right!

Karri: Thanks. I really never thought I was being mean to Thranduil. I adore Thranduil as a character, and really intended only to portray him as gruff because he is overprotective. I don't think I've gotten that across too clearly. I was always intrigued by the idea that Thranduil was so affected by what he saw in Mordor during the Last Alliance that he never forgot it and it haunted him always. I guess I need to revisit what I'm doing with him, though, since I seem to have fallen short of the mark. (Especially since, now, The Anonymous thinks I've portrayed him as a monster. Please someone tell me what's monsterish.)

Tamara: Thank you! 

White Wolf: Thanks. I wanted the fear to seem real without making him look weak.

Neko: You have no idea how relieved I was to read your review! I'm thrilled you saw those characters the way I intended. The Friendship between Legolas and Gimli, IMHO, works precisely because of their differences, and Gimli wouldn't be Gimli if he wasn't a little loud and opinionated! (In a good way!) As for Gandalf, we already know he had reasons for not wanting to go through Moria, the Balrog, of course, being one. I just thought I'd add one more to the mix. Thanks so much for your review!

Angel of Death: Yeah, I thought that would make sense. I was terribly amused that so many people took me to task for what they'd read so far without waiting to see what was planned. Which, was, of course, why I left the chapters where I did. Things are often more complicated then they appear. I'm glad you liked it! I only hope you like the rest!

Alexa: Thanks. Yeah, I like to see Gandalf's grandfatherly, protective streak as well. When he worries about someone, he stands by that someone. Tolkien wrote some amazing characters.

MysticalMagic: Thanks! I try to keep the emotion real, but I hate to ignore what the characters are feeling since that is often a motivator in their actions and since it gives us something with which to identify. I'm really glad you liked Fight the Fall. See, Gimli is so fun to write when he demands to be in a scene. The scene in Fight the Fall, I hadn't intended him to be there, and before I knew it, the words just appeared on my screen. He's an insistent dwarf, I can tell you!

Vilondra, The Dark Rouge: Thanks for the review!

Daisy Brambleburr: I'm glad you like it. Sorry about the cliffhangers. I just don't knew where else to break the chapters. There really aren't any better places to break.


	7. part 7

****

The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for disclaimer.)

****

Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

Please review. See replies to reviews at end of chapter.

Part 7

Gandalf saw a cave just ahead and knew it to be the right one. He hurried inside forcing a glow from the end of his staff. Legolas was not near the entrance, so he moved quickly, knowing that he did not have much time.

Then he heard a sound, slight, muffled, but definitely the sound of someone in anguish trying to be heard. He moved at a speed that would have surprised many of his friends who knew not the true power of the Istari.

He ran through the cavern, and turning to the left, he saw the elf. His heart went out to the fair being as he took in the tattered, bloodied clothes, the tightly bound limbs, and the slight tremble. He was immediately at the Prince's side, talking in a calm, even voice. "Legolas, it is Mithrandir. You are not alone."

Legolas turned his head sharply at the most welcome, nearly forgotten sound of someone speaking. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he was not insane. He had indeed heard Mithrandir calling his name earlier. 

As Gandalf reached for the ropes that bound the prince's wrists, he felt tremors course through the elf's body. Convulsions shook his slight frame, and Gandalf knew he had arrived with not a moment to spare. Again, he closed his eyes, and again he summoned words in Quenya speaking harshly to the evil darkness that fought to corrupt the soul of Middle-earth's youngest elf.

The Istar stood, staying close to Legolas. "You shall not have him!" Gandalf's voice echoed through the cavern as a light grew around him to encompass the unconscious elf at his feet. The dark evil flared for a moment as though loath to release the innocent it held. "Be gone, evil shadow, and do not return!" The light increased flooding the cave with blinding whiteness. When it finally receded, Gandalf reached out his senses but found no hint of the evil. He had driven it away.

He knelt then at Legolas' side, surprised to find he was conscious. He struggled against his bonds making his wrists all the bloodier. He tried to speak, but the Istar softly shushed him. "Shh, Legolas, let me cut these ropes away." He tore off the gag and blindfold disturbed by the sight that greeted the action. An elf clenching his eyes tight against the brightness of his staff's light was a difficult sight to behold.

Tears fell from Legolas' eyes as he squeezed his them shut. What light was there that could blind an elf? He felt a sudden painful release as Mithrandir sliced easily though the ropes at his wrists and ankles. Moving his arms brought a cry of surprised pain. 

"Easy, Legolas. Take it slowly." Gandalf was prepared to wait in the cavern for Legolas to adjust to the new sensations from his abused body, and he settled the elf to lean against him as he rummaged through his things for something with which to treat the gash on Legolas' arm. He was surprised that the first thing Legolas did was struggle against him as though trying to escape him.

"Legolas, what is it?"

With an effort that surprised the Istar, the elf slowly raised his eyes to meet Gandalf's, and with a dry, choked whisper pleaded with his rescuer. "_Aurë_" (Sunlight, stars.)

Nodding, Gandalf moved with a strength belied by his physical form and scooped the elf up into his arms, hastening to the cavern's entrance. The closer they came to the full glare of sunlight, the more the elf trembled in both relief at the feel of it on his skin, and pain that his eyes could not quickly adjust to the sudden intensity of the bright, blazing sun.

Gandalf settled Legolas by a tree, his face in the shade to shield his eyes, but the sunlight streaming through the trees bringing comfort and peace to his tortured soul.

Glad he'd brought extra, Gandalf opened his water skin. "Drink." He urged the elf, who took small sips while the wizard checked his wounds. 

What he saw disturbed him, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that it could have so easily been worse. Legolas' wrists were chafed and bloodied from the ropes, as were his ankles. There was some dried blood on the back of his head where he had undoubtedly been hit, and at least one rib was broken, but by far the worst was the gash on his arm. A wolf had attacked the elf. He had no doubt about that. Carefully, he cleaned the wounds, using what herbs he had to fight off infection and bring some comfort to his charge.

"I thought that I would never see the sun again." Legolas whispered hoarsely, eyes fixed above his head as if trying to see the sun itself through the filtering comfort of the leaves. He was blinking rapidly now, elven healing already helping him adjust again to sunlight.

Legolas weakly raised a hand to the place where his missing braid should have been and, in doing so, drew Gandalf's attention to the dried blood in his hair. His scalp must have been cut when they'd severed the braid. It was now almost healed, but Gandalf still took pains to clean and treat it. 

"Gloin gloated of what he's done, though Kulin seemed to enjoy it most." Legolas said, his voice an odd mixture of anger and apathy. "He wants to hurt my father."

"There is more going on here than you know, Legolas." He hesitated, not wanting to tell the elf exactly what had happened until he'd had time to recover.

"Ai, Mithrandir, I could not fight them all! One struck me from behind, and when I awoke, I was bound. Gloin discovered who I am, and" He inhaled sharply as Mithrandir's touch fell again to his ribs.

"I am sorry, but I must wrap them."

Legolas nodded once, but his gaze drifted back towards the sky. He was a model patient, distracted more by the beauty of the sun and trees than by the pain of his injuries. 

Gandalf tended the elf, but also studied him. He had not resumed his tale, and Gandalf was not inclined to push. It was obvious how he'd been treated. Details availed no one. He was paler than an elf should be, and seemed weaker than Gandalf would have expected. Of course, he reminded himself, he knew not how long the elf had dwelled in darkness.

"Legolas, how long have you been here like this?"

Legolas considered the question, but knew he could not answer. "In truth, I do not know. What is the day? Time passes unmarked when an elf sees not the sun."

Gandalf told him the date and time of day.

"Then, my friend, I have been trussed like a pig for 6 days." He looked up at the sky, eyes still tearing at the light. "Six days without sun or stars. I hope never to be so long in darkness again. I think I would rather die."

Gandalf was surprised at the words. Elves did not speak lightly of death. Perhaps it was the shock of being rescued, or the disorientation of being again among his beloved trees and bright sunlight. Most likely, however, it was the lingering touch of evil.

He looked up at the tree on which Legolas was propped and realized it too had not liked the words the Woodland Elf had spoken. Its lowest branches seemed to dip lower, it's leaves strategically bunching and separating to deliver the most sunlight to the elf's pale skin, while keeping his eyes comfortably shaded.

"Come, Legolas. I will take you to my horse, and we will get you home." He helped the elf rise, noting that, though strength was returning rapidly, Legolas needed support to walk even a short distance.

Getting Legolas upon the horse, and climbing up behind him, Gandalf turned the animal towards Thranduil's Hall. They had gone but a short distance when Gandalf stopped and forced Legolas to drink again. The Elf was grateful just to feel the liquid run down his throat. His arms still trembled, but his strength was slowly returning.

Resuming their course, the pair rode in silence. Legolas wanted to sing, but he found he was unable. The third time he tried, Gandalf cut him off. "Rest, Legolas." Then he began to sing to the elf. "_The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began"_

**

King Thranduil had been intent on finding the dwarves who had dared harm his son, when he had accidentally stumbled upon Mithrandir. The wizard held Legolas in the saddle in front of him as he rode with haste towards Thranduil's palace. The king had stopped his forces and ordered them to take up guard positions around the Prince and his rescuer. He would deal with the dwarves later. Now he had to see to his son.

As he watched his son sleep safely in his own bed, he wondered why he could not calm the fear that still claimed his heart. Legolas was safe. He was here in his room. Why did his heart still ache as though he were lost?

He looked to his left as Mithrandir stepped beside him. _Amin dele ten'ho. _(I am worried about him.)

"He will recover. He is young and strong." Gandalf found himself believing this for the first time since he'd found the prince.

"Tell me how you found him."

Gandalf shrugged. "The methods I used are unimportant."

"Not the methods. His condition. How was he when you found him?"

"We have treated his wounds. Surely you can see from the nature of them what has happened."

"Tell me!"

Gandalf told him, but passed a warning to the King as well. "There is more going on here than you realize, Thranduil." Gandalf relayed all he knew of the dwarves and the evil shadow that had possessed Kulin and tried to lay claim to Legolas.  


Thranduil listened, his blood running cold at the thought that his precious son had been cradled in the clutches of the enemy. "He will recover?"

"He will in time, though the memory of it will linger." Gandalf stared down at the elf, hoping whatever he remembered would not haunt him all his days.

"Do not tell him what truly happened, Mithrandir."

"Nay, I will not. It is too soon for him to hear it all when it may hinder his recovery by striking fear into his heart too soon." He looked sidelong at the King. "You should tell him one day, when he has overcome this."

Thranduil did not answer, and Gandalf decided not to push. Gandalf could feel the anguish radiating from the King. Father and son had both had much recovering to do.

__

"Adar?"

Thranduil and Gandalf were at Legolas' bedside in an instant. "What is it, my son."

"Thirsty." He mumbled.

  
Thranduil held out a cup of water to him and gently helped him sit up to sip it. He expected Legolas to fall back against the pillow almost immediately, but his son surprised him by gripping his arm. _"Ada_, please..." Legolas glanced around the room. _Im boe tíro calad." _(I must see the light.)

"Rest, my son." Thranduil told Legolas as he lit more candles around the room.

__

"Le hannon, Ada." Legolas whispered as he sunk back onto the bed and was instantly asleep. (Thank you.)

  
**End Flashback**

**

When he was finished his story, Legolas was surprised that no one had anything to say. They stared at him for awhile and he felt a slow smile tugging at his lips. "I see. Now that I am finished, you have no comments to make."

Merry returned the elf's smile. "Why would we have comments when we can no longer interrupt you? Where's the fun in that?"

Frodo laughed outright, and Sam turned quickly towards him, joy in his eyes that his master sounded as he once had after a long night of ale and tales in the Shire. 

"We were a rather rude audience, weren't we, Legolas?" Frodo said. "It was quite an exciting story." He would have said more but Aragorn cut him off.

Aragorn raised a hand putting an end to any further discussion. "We have walked long and hard today. We must rest if we are to face tomorrow's trials." 

He glanced at Legolas, who was supposed to take the first watch this evening. Aragorn wanted the elf to sleep. He knew his friend was worn out, and they would need him strong if any unexpected dangers lingered between them and escape from Moria.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "I will take first watch. Gimli, perhaps we can count on you to take second?"

Gimli nodded, already deep in thought over the story he had heard.

Legolas felt oddly disconnected from the group and fatigue filled his limbs, or he might have objected to being overlooked for the evening watch. The elf settled down to sleep, though his eyes seemed haunted.

Boromir saw the troubled look in both Aragorn's and Gandalf's eyes. He knew, as they all did, that something had to be done. What did one do for an ailing elf, especially when the malady was lack of sun and air and you had at least another day of darkness ahead of you? He pondered the problem long and hard, until a simple solution presented itself. You make the darkness light.

He approached Aragorn who had moved to sit near Gandalf. Both were staring at Legolas as if willing him to be all right. "Forgive me, Aragorn, but I must askLegolas' problem is that he needs the sun?"

Aragorn nodded. "It is."

"Then can we not provide it for him?"

Aragorn stared at Boromir. "Perhaps the darkness has gotten to you as well."

"I don't mean literally. Gandalf's staff provides the light. Perhaps we can find another way to provide warmth."

"What do you suggest?" Gandalf leaned forward to hear the man's words.

Boromir was beginning to lose his nerve. He had to be wrong. It couldn't be this simple. "I was speaking to him earliertrying to distract himhis mood lifted when I sang a song of Minas Tirith. Perhaps if we each sang something to him. One of you must know something familiarsomething elvish."

Aragorn considered the suggestion, and turned his attention to Gandalf. "Could that help?"

"It might. Certainly it will not hurt."

Aragorn needed no further encouragement. He moved to sit close to Legolas and began to sing an elvish song Legolas had once taught him about Mirkwood. Gandalf recognized it and joined in. Boromir wanted to as well, but, as he spoke no elvish, he listened to the melody until he learned it and began to hum parts of it when he could, throwing in a word here and there as he picked it up.

Soon the Hobbits joined them, all but Frodo stumbling over the elvish.

Gimli would not try to sing elvish, but he did keep time to the song by tapping his axe handle against the stone wall.

Legolas heard the words. At first he was too weary to respond, but the song was one he loved, and hearing his friends sing it did indeed lighten his heart. After several verses, he joined in himself, quietly at first, but soon building. When the song was finished, he smiled at them. "Thank you, my friends."

  
Aragorn gestured to Boromir. "It was his idea. I merely supplied the song."

"And I the harmony, " Gandalf added.

"And we, thevolume!" Merry added with a laugh.

"The result was perfection, truly. I thank you."

Gandalf nodded, noting the elf's pallor had lessened. "We shall start the morning with another round, if you like."

"I think I would enjoy that." He smiled again at his friends, and settled down to sleep.

**

__

The rest of the journey through the darkness left them little time to be concerned by Legolas' condition. The Tomb of Balin had been a heartbreaking sight for all of them, especially Gimli. The Cave Troll and orcs had put up a formidable fight. Legolas was pleased that his training as a warrior had distracted him from his own anxieties. When he had told Aragorn that they should leave the tomb, he briefly wondered if his fears of Moria had made his anxieties seem more of a threat than they were. When the orcs had attacked, he silently chastised himself for his doubts. His senses had not abandoned him entirely. 

Later, when Gandalf had mentioned the Balrog, Legolas felt an icy terror grip his heart. He felt paralyzed by fear until he heard Gandalf's command to run. Their dash through Moria had almost cost them Boromir when the man had nearly plunged down a nonexistent stairs. Legolas reached for him and pulled him backwards. He could feel a bond of strong friendship growing with Boromir, and losing him before they had a chance to explore that relationship would have been devastating.

As they ran towards the bridge of Khazad-dûm, Legolas pleaded with the Valar to save them. He watched Gandalf as he faced the beast alone, all the while telling himself to fire arrows at it, though he knew they would be ineffectual. When Gandalf fell, Legolas could not shake the disbelief and consternation that flooded his heart. It could not be that Mithrandir was gone. It could not be! How could they endure? 

  
He stood outside in the blessed light after four days of darkness, yet he could feel naught but the pain in his heart. The joy he should have felt at seeing the sky eluded him. The absence of his friend seemed unfathomable. Confusing. Disconcerting, How could it be? Gandalf was no human! He was immortal! HeLegolas' thoughts faded as Aragorn asked him to get the Hobbits up and ready to travel. Yes. Travel. They had far to go. Almost in slow motion it felt to him, he urged the hobbits to stand, to gather their strength, and to put aside their grief.

Aragorn led them towards Lothlorien, and as he raced across the land on light, graceful feet, Legolas could not help but feel that even the Golden Wood could not heal this hurt.

To be continued

slightly psychotic: Good! I'm glad I'm keeping my audience!

Karri: Thanks for the clarification on the elvish! My dictionary usually lists either Q or S when a word is taken from Quenyan or Sindarin, but for some words it has only one translation and no qualifiers. I'll fix that then. (Sorry everyone, I'm going back to Adar!) After all, everything else, I've _tried_ to keep Sindarn. I'm releived to hear Thranduil isn't as far off as I'd begun to think. I only had the hint to his greed because I was intending to set this up as a point of contention between Thranduil and Legolas. There's more Thranduil in chapters to come.

Lirenel: Thanks! I'm sorry you lost the story for awhile, but I'm glad you found it again! I'm glad you like the characterizations. I hate to offend anyone, especially in such a wonderful world as Tolkien created. My sister has only recently started reading the books. She just started The Two Towers, and has, of course, read my stories. She thinks dwarves are like Klingonsminus the height of course!

Dragonfly: Thanks! I often wonder if the guy who created "Highlander" got his idea for the pain of immortality from Tolkien. In my head, I sometimes hear the Queen Song, Who Wants to Live Forever from Highlander when I write about this stuff!

Alexa: Thank you! It means a great deal to hear such nice things! I am thrilled that you like my story, and I will continue to update regularly!

White Wolf: Thank you! Yes, I found myself wondering what's taking so long, too! Gandalf shares the sense of urgency, though, and I promise he will find Legolas soon!

MysticalMagic: You're right about Gimli! He is what he is! I'm glad you like what I've done with Boromir. I've gotten a lot of positive comments about him, and I'm glad to have struck a chord with so many readers!

Neko: I know! I missed him myself, but he needed to absorb the story that's being told, and I had to hurry Gandalf on his way! Thanks again for the review. I'll keep posting as promptly as I am able. (I already have ideas for several other LOTR fics when this one is finished.)

Andmetwen: That's because he's in two places! He's in Moria telling the Fellowship the story of something that happened to him in Mirkwood years earlier. Yeah, he probably does need a hug about nowin both Moria and Mirkwood!

Vilondra,Goddess of Darkness: Thanks.

MoroTheWolfGod: I like those succinct reviews. You know what they say, ask and ye shall receive. Plus, I'm in a good mood today!


	8. part 8

****

The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for disclaimer.)

Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in _italics_. No disrespect is intended.

As a warning, this is the last chapter. See answers to reviews and additional author note at the end.

****

Please review.

Part 8

__

Lorien was a welcome sight when finally they reached it. Legolas felt his spirits lift at the sight. He sensed movement moments before he perceived they were surrounded. His bow was up and aimed as he realized he was also someone's target. It was somewhat unnerving to have an elf in his sights and know that he was also an elf's target.

He listened carefully as Aragorn spoke to Haldir, but his attention, and his arrow, never wavered from the elf standing before him.

The tension gradually eased as, somehow, Aragorn convinced Haldir to escort them deeper into the Golden Wood. It was only further on, when Haldir greeted him personally, that Legolas could sense some unspoken anxiety from his friend. The evil of the ring Frodo bore was not welcome by the Elves of Lorien.

Their audience with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel was both less and more hopeful than Legolas had anticipated, but seeing the Lady brought to him a sudden realization. As he looked into her mesmerizing eyes, his tired, grief-stricken mind told him that before him stood the vision that had come to him all those years ago when he had been trapped in darkness. She had appeared to him, helping him to hang on to hope. As he looked into her eyes, and this sudden insight dawned, he knew she had acknowledged this perception though she had spoken no word of it, nor given any other physical indication. It was as a meeting of minds and hearts.

He spoke to Celeborn and Galadriel of Gandalf's fall, and was heartened by the Lady's declaration and mild rebuke that Gandalf's path had not been needless. Even with such a notion, his grief was great, and he could not hide it from these most revered of elvenkind.

**

Aragorn helped the hobbits settle in their camp at the base of a mallorn tree, which, after the dark depths of Moria, seemed comforting and safe.

The Ranger watched as Legolas told the Hobbits he could not translate the lament for Gandalf. His concern for his friend was great, but he knew he should not force the elf to speak of his grief. He would settle for sparing a concerned eye when he could.

Legolas, once sure his companions were comfortable, climbed into a nearby flet, having been coaxed by his people to join them for the evening. It was a comfort to him to be again among elves, and he allowed their presence to sooth his tattered spirit. Moria would have been hard enough for him had he not believed on some level that the evil he'd faced years ago would return. That burden as well might have been easier to face now that he had left the mines behind him if Gandalf had lived. 

As he and the other elves settled down to speak and sleep, his eyes drifted again and again to the stars above his head, and he felt great relief that, unlike Mirkwood, Lorien elves lived in the treetops. His kin grew curious to hear of his journey for the Elves of Mirkwood did not often visit Lothlorien. They had questions about his travels and the strange company he kept, but he would not disclose the purpose of their quest, claiming only that Lord Elrond had sent them.

  
When their queries caused him to divulge that they had traveled through Moria, the elves gasped in shock and surprise.

Haldir spoke of it first. "You spent four days traveling through Moria in the company of a dwarf?" He shook his head in incredulity. "You must tell us how you managed to survive such an ordeal!"

Legolas appreciated the sympathy, and even more appreciated that they skirted around the facts of Gandalf's demise. Somehow they knew or sensed that the Wood Elf was not yet ready to speak of it, and they respected this. He did not wish to discuss Moria, but he did, knowing it was news they would tell to others once he'd gone. An elf traveling through mines with a dwarf, even if unwillingly, was a tale that would be oft repeated.

It was in recounting the journey that he realized his companions had seen him through it. It was only now clear to him that the Hobbits incessant questions, comments, and quibbles had been meant as a distraction. He could recall several moments when he'd seen several of them, especially Merry, casting a concerned glance at him.

Boromir, too, had talked to him of Minas Tirith and his brother, yet had asked all manner of things about elves in general and Mirkwood elves in particular. The man, like the hobbits, had known something troubled him and had set about keeping him from dwelling on it.

Aragorn's concern had been more direct, but then he and the Ranger had been friends for decades, and he had known the bulk of the story. He was not intimidated by elves, and was more comfortable talking directly to Legolas if there was something that needed discussing.

Even Gandalf, Legolas realized, stifling an intense burst of grief at the thought of the Istar, had brightened the light at precisely those moments when he'd felt himself fading. He'd offered a kind word or two of encouragement when he could, and he had let Legolas know that he understood the connections the Prince's mind had drawn to his first imprisonment in a cave. 

The Fellowship had supported him. Even Gimli had become less vociferous in his objections to the very existence of elves after he'd learned what had happened to Legolas. It was likely the dwarf suspected Legolas had exaggerated, but he seemed to know something had happened.

As he settled in the flet to sleep again under the stars and among his own kind, Legolas felt the beginnings of healing enter his heart and soul.

**

The next morning, Legolas awoke to feel the sun's gentle touch upon his face. The difference between awakening in the trees of Lorien rather than the mines of Moria was enough to make the elf giddy. The giddiness subsided quickly, replaced by sorrow at the memory of Gandalf's fall as he recognized the lament, which the Elves of Lothlorien still sang.

He rose then, and, though the flet upon which he'd slept was already high in the tree, he leaped into the branches and climbed still higher. When he'd reached the very top, he sat motionless and stared at the vista before him sorting through the raw emotion of the last four days.

When first he'd realized they'd be traveling through Moria, he had been filled with dread. The very idea had brought back vivid recollections of his experience blindfolded, bound, and gaggedand of the days immediately following.

**

****

Flashback

A day or so after Mithrandir had found him, he'd awoke to hear his father telling Aglarelen, his oldest brother, what had happened to him. They spoke in hushed tones in an obvious attempt to keep from waking him. Legolas did not catch all of their words, though he assumed it was a lack of concentration on his own part. Aglarelen had sounded distraught about something. He and Legolas had always been very close for elves of such a differing age. Thranduil's heir was 2500 years older than his youngest sibling.

He'd listened silently, watching the two as they argued unaware of Legolas' attentions. It was only when Aglarelen had turned gesturing towards what he'd assumed was his sleeping brother that he saw Legolas' clear, thoughtful eyes resting on him.

He smiled and moved to his brother's side followed swiftly by Thranduil.

"Did we wake you, _gwanurnin_?" (My brother)

Legolas ignored the question. "What worries you?"

Aglarelen's surprise was evident. "What worries me? We have been searching for you for days." He drew nearer to the bedside. "You worry me, brother. How do you feel?"

__

" Avo 'osto "(Don't worry.)

Thranduil interrupted his sons. "Legolas, you have not answered your brother's question. How do you feel?" His eyes never left his son's, and the fear that had gripped his heart over Legolas' well being had not lessened.

As Legolas considered the question, fear grew in his eyes. "_Adar_, there is a dark memory

"Think of the light my son." 

"I try. I do. But my heart is full of dread and fear."

Thranduil looked down at his youngest son. "There is nothing to fear, Legolas. You are safe again, and I mean to keep you safe for all the rest of your days."

__

"Adar" Aglarelen warned, knowing of what his father spoke.

Thranduil did not heed his son's warning. He was filled with fear himself for Legolas, indeed for all the elves of Mirkwood. "I will declare it unlawful for an elf to travel alone in Mirkwood, and you will not leave this realm again unless it is to sail to the West."

"_Adar!_" Legolas called to his father only to find himself talking to the King's back as he exited his youngest son's room.

Aglarelen watched his brother's face as Legolas stared after the departing King. "His actions stem from worry and love, Legolas." 

"I know. I do. But this will solve nothing when the darkness of Dol Guldûr threatens usit will weaken our defenses against the Enemy if our people simply hide in thesecaves."

"Legolas," Aglarelen took his brother's hand in his own. "You could have been killed. If Mithrandir hadn't found you, wargs, spiders, or any number of evils may have stumbled upon you" His voice softened, anger fading at the thought of how close he had come to the unthinkable. "I would not lose you, too."

Legolas swallowed. "_Henion, gwanurnin_. I would not lose you, either, but I am home now."

(I understand, my brother.)

"They beat you, bound you, and left you defenseless in the depths of a cave" Aglarelen stopped speaking when Legolas closed his eyes, his jaw tightening, in response to his brother's words. This ordeal had cost Legolas more than Aglarelen had thought. "Legolas"

"I am recovered."

  
"I think not."

Legolas opened his eyes. "NoI suppose I am not." 

His voice sounded so wistful and forlorn that Aglarelen's heart shattered at the sound. "You have but to name your desire and it is yours, _gwanurnin_."

"I wish to sleep where I can see the stars."

"I do not know if you are well enough to sleep among the trees."

"AglarelenI must. The starsthe sunI was cut off from them for six days. I saw only the blackest darknessand there was a shadow there that would devour my very soul. To sleep within these walls" Legolas broke off choking back a sob, and holding back the tears that stood in his eyes, as he gestured at the stone walls that, to him, seemed to be growing thicker and darker and closer.

Aglarelen needed to hear no more. Legolas had always derived a special pleasure in sleeping among the branches of the highest trees in Mirkwood. If that was what he needed, Aglarelen would give it to him.

He helped Legolas from the bed, and all but carried his brother amidst Legolas' protestations. "Silence, Legolas. If you want to see the stars this night, hold your tongue."

Legolas uttered not another sound as he allowed his brother to support him and lead him outside. Once there, Aglarelen directed Legolas to the base of his favorite tree, and together they swung up into the lower branches. In a few moments they settled near the top. Legolas was breathing only slightly heavier than usual, and held a hand to his ribs. They would be healed in another day or two, and they did not cause him pain so much as a dull ache.

  
Aglarelen took in his brother's reaction to his surroundings. His pallor was all but gone. His breathing was evening out, and he sported the slightest of smiles. 

Aglarelen smiled, shaking his head. "You are a wonder, Legolas."

Legolas' smile grew, but his gaze never strayed from the stars. "Whatever could you mean by that?"

"You_thrive _out here. You must hate the palace."

"I do nothate itexactly. I amuncomfortable at the best of times. At the worst of timesI must get away. Why do you think I accept so many invitations to visit Imladris?" He turned then and looked at his brother, and even Aglarelen felt surprise at the ethereal beauty of his youngest brother. "AglarelenI love Mirkwood. I would see it restored to its former splendor. I would see Greenwood the Great rise again." He looked back towards Thranduil's hall. "I would not, however, see our father disregard common sense just to keep me safe! I will not see him turn into a petty tyrant. He heads that way since _Naneth_ and Lindëriel" He did not finish the thought. When he'd successfully suppressed the grief that came to him with thoughts of his mother and sister, he shared a sad smile with his brother. "My words stem from worry and love, Aglarelen." (Mother)

Laughter was a sweet release for them both as Aglarelen recognized his brother's words. "Aye, _gwanurnin_. That I know. _Ú-'osto. _I will speak to him, and we will see if Mithrandir has any advice for us. Curfews are impractical at best, and he well knows it is impossible to get you to stay where you do not want to be." (Fear not.)

Legolas shivered slightly, and Aglarelen stared at him. "My brother, why do you shiver."

"Naught but a memory, Aglarelen."

"Share it. Mithrandir said you should not keep it inside. That cave was"

"Evil. Well I know it." He sighed, shifting his weight and staring intently at the stars as though afraid that, were he to look away, they would each blink out of existence. He told his brother then all that he could remember. Physical pain, sounds, smells, things he thought he had imagined, details of the dark shadow that had plagued him within the cave, and the memory of the Black Speech somehow telling him the evil would take him.

Aglarelen's heart ached to hear it. Mithrandir had told him and his father that had he been but a little later in arriving, he might not have pulled Legolas back from the abyss. While reliving the horrors, however, Legolas mind latched onto another, less grim memory.

A small smile tugged at the young elf's mouth, and Aglarelen felt himself responding in kind. "What? What causes you to smile?"

"I was remembering the vision."

"How can darkness make you smile so brightly?"

"Nay, not that." He looked at his brother, searching his eyes to judge how much he should share. He should have known better. Eventually, he shared everything with Aglarelen. "When I was sure I would be consumed, I saw a vision of the loveliest elf I have ever seen. She spoke to me. She told me to come back to the light, and said that there was yet need of my strength." He pondered the words. "I know not what she meant."

"Neither do I, but I am glad you listened to her!"

Legolas smiled and looked again at the stars. They were bright and close and comforting, He wondered how anything evil could exist while such beauty shone down upon all of Arda. He leaned closer to his brother, resting his head on Aglarelen's shoulder and breathing deeply of the scent of life around him.

  
Aglarelen was gladdened by Legolas' joy. His brother had required neither such help from him nor his shoulder to lean upon in many seasons. He knew his brother's eyes rested upon the stars, and, as he watched them as well, he felt Legolas slip into a peaceful elven sleep.

For a long time neither moved. Eldest brother watched over youngest with an affection and strength that did more to heal then either could ever suspect. It was only when a soft sound reached Aglarelen's ears that he turned away from his brother.

There, on the next branch, across from Legolas, sat Thranduil. The surprise on Aglarelen's face brought a soft chuckle from the older elf. "Surely the sight before you is not so strange as that, Aglarelen. I have climbed trees before!"

"Not in Legolas' lifetime, _Ada_. I am sure of it."

"Has it been so long?" He was lost in thought a moment, but shook it off. "When I saw his room empty, I guessed where you had gone," he said, nodding toward Legolas, who still rested against his brother's shoulder.

"He could not rest inside. The room was too like a" The Prince hesitated to finish the thought.

"You may say it. A cave. He was never happy there." The King sighed. "I have done what needed doing. If we can but defeat the Enemy, we can return _Mirk_wood to the splendor that was Greenwood the Great." 

Legolas stirred then, his head snapping up when he saw the unexpected sight of his father sitting in the tree next to them. _"Ada?"_

The King laughed. "I see I should spend more time among the trees myself if the sight of me perched here is so stunning to young eyes."

"I meant nothing"

"Legolas, I have reconsidered what I said earlier, though I would prefer that you not travel great distances alone."

"Imladris is hardly a great distance" He stopped himself, realizing what his father was saying. "That isI will be more careful."

Thranduil smiled. "I love you, my son. You have brought great joy to my life, and I could not bear to lose you."

Legolas made to offer some reassurance that he was well, but Thranduil had not finished. "I had decided, if you were not restored to me, and if by some miracle, the grief of such a loss did not kill me, I would have sought the peace of the Undying Lands."

__

"Adar!" Legolas and Aglarelen exclaimed in unison.

"Happily, you are restored to me, and I am not yet ready to sail into the West." Thranduil's gaze fell on his sons, and he stared intently enough to ingrain the image of the two, one still supporting the other, deeply into his memory. This would become one of his most treasured moments, he knew. 

Thranduil sighed, and shifted his weight, preparing to climb down again. "After a few weeks, if you wish to return to Imladris, you may go." He paused as if unsure he should say more, but in the end, he had to be true to his own wishes. "But you must take an escort." With that, he was gone, moving swiftly through the branches.

Thranduil reached the ground and began to head towards the palace, when Legolas appeared in front of him, having raced down after his father. "_Adar,_ thank you. I promise to be careful."

"I know, my son."

The two stared at each other in silence for several moments before simultaneously reaching out to each other and sharing a fierce embrace.

"I love you, _Adar_."

"And I love you, my little Green Leaf." When they pulled apart, Thranduil gestured for the tree in which Aglarelen still waited. "Now, go on, and get some rest."

Legolas flashed a brilliant smile, full of life and light and joy. In moments he was gone, racing again to the treetops.

Thranduil listened to the soft laughter and singing of his sons.

****

End Flashback

**

Legolas clearly remembered the evening he'd spent in that tree with his brother. His heart ached to see Aglarelen again, but he had gone to the West, leaving Middle-earth behind less than twenty years after that night. He wondered what his eldest brother would think of this quest, and what he would say if he revealed that Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood, had been the elf in his vision all those years ago.

His eyes strayed up towards the sun, but his hearing picked up a conversation below. The Hobbits were speaking of breakfast, trying to explain to Boromir why a properly run Hobbit home required two breakfasts a day. Legolas listened to the exchange, but his gaze lingered on Frodo.

He has made a vow to protect Frodo and see the One Ring destroyed as a representative of all his people. The agony of Mithrandir's death, and his own ordeal in Moria, had driven the purpose from his mind. Though the grief was still near, he would see this quest through to the end. He would do as he had vowed. He was part of a Fellowshipthe nineeight, he amended with a brief surge of agony as his mind replayed Mithrandir's fallThe Eight had need to stick together. 

Mithrandir had said that they would follow the path that need requires, and Legolas saw the wisdom in the words. 

From his perch, he saw Aragorn approaching the Hobbits, Gimli beside him. The path that need requiresGandalf had said much to him in his long life, and need required that he take the Istar's advice even after his death. With one last look at the sun as it climbed higher in the sky, he descended swiftly and silently, disturbing not a single leaf as he went.

He leaped from the lowest branch to land amidst his companions, surprising not a few of them. Only Aragorn seemed unaffected by the elf's sudden appearance. 

Legolas caught Aragorn's eye and nodded slightly. Aragorn rightly read the nod and the look in his friend's eye. He allowed himself a smile and a slight nod in his friend's direction.

Legolas then crossed the distance between them, and to Aragorn's consternation, engulfed the man in a warm embrace. He placed his mouth near Aragorn's ear whispering so that only his friend would hear. "I thank you for your concern, _Gwadornin_. I am well." (My brotherwhen referring to a close friend, but not a blood relativelike blood brother.)

He pulled away, enjoying the sight of his friend blinking in surprise.

With a laugh, he turned his attention to the Hobbits. "Master Samwise, the aroma of your breakfast has wakened my hunger!"

Sam quickly handed him a plate as Pippin explained. "You were up in that tree too long! This is _Second_ Breakfast."

Legolas laughed again and listened to the light-hearted banter of the Hobbits as he ate. After several moments, he managed to participate in the conversation. "My friends, thank you for your help through Moria."

Merry spoke first. "We didn't do anything, Legolas. You saved all of us at one point or another."

"He's right!" Sam interjected. "We probably hurt more than helped. You big folk always seem to be defending us."

"Oh, Sam," Legolas began, concerned that the brave hobbits could think so ill of themselves. "You do not truly believe that! You were more of a help than you can know. I will remember this for all the days of my life."

Frodo smiled warmly at the elf. "We're glad, Legolas. We were worried about you, especially after we heard what you had been through. If we helped in some small way, I'm glad for it."

"We Hobbits stick by our friends!" Pippin declared. "And though we can't offer much, we offer whatever we can."

Legolas smiled warmly at them. "No one can offer more, Pippin."

Aragorn watched his friend carefully. He was behaving most uncharacteristically. The Ranger wished Gandalf were here so he could discuss this with him. He glanced around the camp and noted Boromir was also gazing concernedly at the elf. They had been walking together much in Moria. Aragorn considered speaking to the man to determine if he had any insights that Aragorn himself had not seen.

He made his way over to the other man, noting his discomfort. They'd spoken about it before. Boromir was uncomfortable in the Golden Wood. 

"Boromir," he called by way of greeting.

"Aragorn."

"I wonder if I might have a word."

Boromir waited expectantly.

"Legolas will not speak to me of his grief over Gandalf. I wonder if you might know something of how he fares." Aragorn seated himself on the ground at Boromir's side, his eyes moving back to Legolas as if of their own accord.

Boromir looked back towards the elf. "I don't know what I can tell you. You know him better than I."

"You seemed to get on well in Moria."

Boromir shrugged. "He needed distraction. I provided it."

"He has not spoken to you?"

"Not of Gandalf." He paused, considering his next words, but his curiosity got the best of him "I would ask you why he does not call himself Prince. He laughed when I called him by the title."

Aragorn laughed now picturing it. "He has an immortal father and three immortal older brothers. Though his oldest has already sailed to the West, he still sees it unlikely that anything will come of his 'title'. The truth is, his people see more of a prince in him than he sees in himself." He paused lost in thought for a moment. "If his father did depart Middle-earth, most of his people, and likely his other two sons, would go as well. Those who did not, would look to Legolas to lead them. I have often wondered what he would do in such circumstances."

"I hadn't thought of it before, but immortality must play havoc with the concept of inheritance. Still, it is his by rights. He is Royalty."

"Aye," Aragorn admitted, "but for elves it is a different thing."

"I do not see how." Boromir scoffed.

"You are not an elf."

Boromir opened his mouth to reply, but subsided when Legolas suddenly stood, thanking Sam once again for his breakfast. He glanced about the camp as if searching for someone, and, to Boromir's amazement, the elf smiled at him and crossed over to where he sat with Aragorn. "Friend Boromir, I am grateful for all you did for me in Moria."

Boromir opened his mouth to reply, but Legolas waved away his words. "And do not say you did nothing! We both know your tales of the White City and of a young man called Faramir were meant to be more than idle conversation."

"If I served you in any way, I assure you, it was repaid when you stopped me plummeting head first into that chasm!" Boromir's insistence was hard to dismiss.

"Regardless, I thank you, _mellonin_."

"Then I must thank you as well_mellonin."_ Boromir said the unfamiliar word awkwardly, but with a great determination, overjoyed when Legolas smiled. Returning the gesture, he watched as Legolas then moved a short distance away and stood in front of Gimli, who sat by a tree sharpening his axe. He waited politely until the dwarf looked up at him.

Aragorn and Boromir exchanged glances and readied themselves to intervene if necessary.

When the dwarf noticed the motionless elf, he stopped fussing with his axe and waited for him to speak.

"It is a lovely day, Gimli. Come, walk with me."

No words could have more surprised the seven mortals surrounding him.

Gimli, at first, reacted not at all. He stared up at the elf, and, as if coming to a sudden decision, he stood. "Elfthat is" He paused shifting his weight slightly and looking down at his feet as they moved. 

Legolas waited, not wanting to rush the dwarf, afraid of what he might say, yet desperate to hear it.

Gimli looked up then, into the elf's eyes. He stopped shifting back and forth, and spoke words that had evidently been on his mind for some time. "Legolasmy father did you a great injustice"

Legolas held up a hand forestalling whatever words would follow. "As my father did to him, but neither is to be blamed, and we are not our fathers, Gimli." To his surprise, Gimli smiled. The smile was followed by a hearty laugh that forced Legolas to smile in return.

"Nay, that we are not!" His eyes shining, Gimli clapped a hand on the elf's arm. "Come thenmy friend." He paused as if waiting for Legolas to object to his choice of words. When he didn't, Gimli's smile widened. "Show me your woods and we will each tell tales of our adventures!" 

  
"These woods are not mine, though I will gladly show them to you." With that, Legolas turned and walked away with Gimli. The elf adjusted his gait to match the speed the dwarf preferred, and together they strolled through the Golden Wood.

Legolas laughed to himself as he and Gimli traded stories, hesitantly at first, of their lives and interests. The path that need choosesLegolas turned the phrase over in his mind as he and Gimli chose their path.

The End

****

ADDITIONAL NOTE: First I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed. This story has gotten the most reviews of anything else I've posted on ff.net, which surprised me since it is nowhere near the length of some of my other stories. Aside from that oddity, I'd really like to thank all of you who have reviewed—especially to those of you who kept coming back for more! A writer needs an audience, and I am glad that you were mine for these short few weeks. (And I invite you to read my future storiesas soon as I finish them!)

Tithen Min: Thanks! 'Brilliant writing'??? WOW! Those must be the nicest words I've ever heardyou know what I mean! I hope you like this final chapter as much as the rest of the story. Your review means a lot!

Tamara: Thanks! I hope you're not too disappointed that this is the final chapter! I am working on a much longer one now.

Andmetwen: Dwarves aren't so bad once you get to know them.

Dragonfly: Thanks. Yes, the Fellowship is helpful that way!

  
White Wolf: I like Thranduil, too, so he's never going to be a devil or an angel. He deserves to be a complex, well-rounded character. Plus, I like throwing him in where he's not expected!

Daisy Brambleburr: Hi! Thanks for the review. I wanted the Fellowship to face a danger that couldn't be overcome by sword, bow, or axe, and to face it together as a group.

Vilondra, Goddess of Darkness: I don't know how much pain he _deserves_, but he does get a lot thanks to fanfic writers everywhere. 

Skye, Tamara, Padfoot4ever, Angel of Death, slightly-psychotic: Thanks. I hope this doesn't disappoint.

Laebeth: I'm flattered. I like a subtle intertwining of AU and bookverse. I like things that could have happened. Thanks again!

Karri: Thanks! That's a really good point. I've always thought everyone was to blame for all the misunderstandings and suspicions in The Hobbit. Like real life! I appreciate your review, and I am thrilled that you like the story!

  
ElvenEyes: Thank you so much, and yes, I do write original work and am trying to get published, but no luck so far. The cave was pretty much my own thing based on the idea I couldn't get rid of that Legolas must have found it hard to be stuck for four days in Moria. I wondered then if he'd had any previous similar experiences, how they might have influenced him. Thank you, and I am glad you like what you've read. 

MoroTheWolfGod: Yes, I like to think Haldir and Legolas are friends. I don't know if there's any basis for that in the books. I don't think there's any mention of it, but then, Legolas isn't really in the books all that much, is he?

Gwyn: Thanks! I'm glad you read it, too! Now tell all your friends! LOL!


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